Pirate Potter
by Cindy Snowflake
Summary: Adopted from Tenkai of Chaos' Potter's Piracy Policy"  Harry's lost everyone he cares about and is unable to continue living, so he commits suicide, only to be given a second chance in the world of One Piece! Harrycentric
1. Chapter 1: Karma's Deal

A/N So, yeah, this is my attempt at continuing the story. The first half of this chapter is almost verbatim, sorry! Also, I warn you all that I probably won't always write chapters this long (yes, I consider this length to be long) and that my updates will be sporadic, but I got fed up with never seeing the Harry Potter/One Piece crossovers I like be updated, so I figured at the very least, I might inspire someone else to write a similar story for me to enjoy (hinthint).

The original story can be found under Tenkai of Chaos.

I quite literally own practically none of the following.

Chapter One

Karma's Deal

The grounds of Hogwarts where once, beautiful and inspiring, stood an ancient, towering castle of legends and an expanse of forests that hundreds of magical creature species called home, could now only be described as dead. After the resurrection of Voldemort, the second war was waged, taking hundreds of lives of Aurors, Death Eaters, Order members, and civilians alike. Sometime during the third or fourth battle of Hogwarts, the towers fell, walls collapsed, and the door was broken in. All that stood living on the grounds now was Harry Potter, twenty-one-yr-old Savior of the Wizarding World, the only survivor of Golden Trio, and the only member of the Order of the Phoenix still sane. He planted a rose bush on each of the graves of his friends who were buried in a circular formation, and then started digging a hole in the center which, as each shovelful of dirt was scooped out, began to resemble a grave.

"I hope the devil enjoys having you as his personal fuck toy, Riddle," Harry spat, as he finished digging the hole. "Perhaps I'll even get to watch, if suicide is a great enough sin to condemn me to the same place you went." He hopped out of the hole, and placed his hands on the ground. For a moment, it seemed he was only praying one last time for the souls of those buried around him, when a slow, but steady pulse of magic rippled outwards from his hands. Everywhere the pulse passed through, the faintest hint of grass sprouted, until the ripple reached the rosebushes. At an incredible rate, the bushes grew inwards and upwards, the thorny branched entwining with each other, forming an enclosed dome around Harry, before sprouting leaves and blossoms, hiding him from the rest of the world.

He got up and stood at the foot of the grave. "I'll heading to the other side now. Perhaps, this isn't what any of you wanted me to do. I don't know. But I can't take it anymore. Everyone who's known war is dead, or insane, or has chosen to forget it ever happened. But I can't forget. Maybe its stupid of me, to still live like a battle might break out at any moment and I have to be ready for it. But I can't stop. It's lonely, you know. Friends can't or don't want to understand. Lovers too, they get irritated, frustrated with me. Hell, I don't blame them, with the emotional baggage I've accumulated even before the war. But I can't let it go. Even my secondary magic isn't enough to keep me occupied. I can't help but feel only by being with all of you again can I fill this hole in me. And if I end up in hell, well, at least it should hurt enough that I'll stop caring, yeah?" With a morbid smirk, Harry Potter raised his wand in his right hand, and pointed the tip at his temple. "Avada Kedavra." And in a flash of green light, the Boy-Who-Lived, lived no longer, his body falling in a slow arc into the open grave behind him. Though the rosebush dome would attract curious passersby almost immediately, no one would discover the presence of their Savior's body inside for another month. The place was made a memorial in his honor, but no one mourned for the person behind the title, because everyone who knew him had preceded him.

"You have no right Rakma! The boy's soul is mine!" roared a voice. Blinking rapidly, Harry turned his head to see a tall man in a black, hooded cloak glaring at another man who sat calmly in his chair at a large dining table. He had messy, blood red hair in a loose braid, and clothes that resembled a traditional oriental garb. As he looked up at the cloaked man over the rim of his cup, Harry's breathe caught at the glowing vividness of yellow eyes. "If the boy was truly yours by right, he would not have ended up here, hmm? Perhaps Karma has back come to bite you. You did, after all, fail miserably in your duty reap Tom Riddle's soul at the proper time, no?"

"You- ! It doesn't change the fact that this boy is dead! And as a soul whose body has perished in his living world, Harry Potter belongs to me right now!" The cloaked man's voice increased in volume, until at the end, he was practically throwing a tantrum.

"Death, have you forgotten that you are not the only Power here? You had best realize it is no good to test me else I'll decide to interpret certain recent events more... flexibly." The man smirks. "Surely you have not forgotten just who was your last mortal master and his last decision under that title?" The man put down his cup, and rose from his chair. "Enough, I have made my decision and you cannot stop it. Leave my home," he declared, his voice layered with power, "_you are no longer welcome here._" Shadows lifted from the ground around Death, and pulled him down until he disappeared from view. The yellow-eyed man, Rakma, sat back down. "Come join me Harry," he called out, "I'm sure we can both benefit from a long discussion about your current circumstances."

Harry approached the table and took a seat at the place next to the man. A cup of tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits popped into existence onto the placemat in front of him. Picking up the teacup – British styled unlike Rakma's handle-less Asian teacup, Harry tried to sort through his whirling thoughts.

"I assume you have questions for me, Harry?" asked Rakma, in a rather amused tone.

Harry hesitated a moment, before asking, "Who are you?"

"Ah," replied Rakma, "a good, but difficult to answer question. To explain what my existence means would be a far too long story, and not to mention irrelevant to the situation. Suffice to say, I am one of the Powers of the worlds, much like Adeth, and I used my rights to bring you here from him."

"Adeth?"

"Ah! I meant Death, sorry. His real name is Adeth, Death being his mortal title, and thus also what I like to call him when conversing with him personally – it irritates him."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh," said Rakma with a smile.

"So, why did you bring me here?"

"Well, first, you must understand that there is no true immortality. It is Adeth's job to ensure that everyone leaves their mortal plane and if they somehow manage to find a way to hide or escape him, it is one of his duties to make sure that he destroys whatever method that is. He's done a decent job of it, though recently he's grown a bit lazy about how efficient he does that particular duty. We should have seen it coming, after he let the Flamels in your world live several hundred years. Hindsight is 20/20, even to us Powers, and when Adeth failed to find a way to reap Tom Riddle despite his horcruxes – it is a rather old technique by now, after all – Tom Riddle managed to escape back to his mortal life and proceed to ruin your life. Most unfortunate, as that Halloween day should have been the end of the prophecy so that you could live the rest of your life more productively."

"Productively?" Harry, who at this point was reeling from the revelation that he had to fight Voldemort all his life because Death, Adeth, whatever, was _lazy_ of all things for a couple hundred years, could only reflexively ask about the last confusing comment he heard Rakma make.

"Well, yes. You discovered part of it already, your secondary magic, I think you called it. As a powerful wizard from birth, you were born with the potential to discover a new way of using magic. You already had a prophecy, so you weren't destined to revolutionize magic or anything, but you had the potential that unfortunately could not be fully enjoyed because of the unforeseen circumstances."

"Well," Harry said slowly, "that sucks and all, but what does this all have to do with me not going to the next life with Death?"

"Haha, this is the fun part. You see, by fighting Voldemort, destroying his horcruxes, and killing him, you essentially did Adeth a favor, and any favor to one of the Powers must be returned, a duty that falls under my jurisdiction." Rakma grinned at this, his eyes lighting up like the Weasley twins' when anticipating the results of their latest prank. "I love my job, especially 'cause it irritates the hell out of the other Powers when they realize they owe a debt to a mortal. In your case, you'll be given a second chance to live in a different world."

Harry gazed into his teacup, barely registering the fact that it was self-refilling as the content had not gone down one bit despite the gulps of tea he had been ingesting to try and stay collected throughout the explanation. A second chance to live in a different world. He didn't know how he felt about that. A different world may be a blessing, since they wouldn't know his past nor his celebrity status, and yet, it could also be a curse. One reason he committed suicide was because he couldn't stand the loneliness anymore; to be the only one who lived the darker side of life – would his second life be any better than his first?

"Harry," Rakma spoke, his voice low and gentle, "I know why you chose to die, and I can assure you that in this new world, you will find people you can relate to. They won't understand your past unless you choose to tell it, but the world I will send you to is not peaceful if you know where to look. It is a world of mostly ocean with thousands of islands, and the waters are ruled by the constant battles between pirates and the marines. The time is actually going to be a particularly havoc-filled one. While there are parts of the world that has never known war, there is one particular ocean of the five that is ruled by strength alone. You will find a place there, and people to love, I promise you this. Let me do this for you Harry." Rakma's eyes were soft, understanding, and pleading, and Harry found himself hopeful for the future after this speech. He closed his eyes, took a shuddering breathe, and slowly nodded.

"Brilliant!" The exuberance in this simple statement took Harry by surprise, his eyes snapping open as he realized that Rakma was once more grinning like no tomorrow. "Now, for some technicalities that we must get out of the way before I can move you along. One is a basic explanation of this new world, yeah? There is no magical community, though you personally can still use your magic and still have the potential to further develop your secondary magic. There is however a power known as Devil Fruit power that is bestowed upon those who have eaten magical fruit of the sea that changes their body in various ways in exchange for completely losing the ability to move in seawater – contact with it drains their energy. I happen to have one to give you, though whether you will be willing to eat it or not is up to you."

Completely unable to move? "Didn't you say that most of the world is ocean?"

"Yep, so choose carefully."

The disadvantage seems to outweigh any possible advantages. Harry didn't care how it might change his body or what abilities it might give him – if just contact with sea water would render him useless, then he couldn't give himself such a weakness without at least a couple of trusted companions to save his arse if it came down to that. And seeing as how he'll be completely new there, that wasn't happening yet. Except –

"What about my magic, will I still be able to use it in water?"

"Yes," replied Rakma, his eyes glowing now with a pleased looked on his face.

"So, I could just use magic to shield my body from direct contact with water, and still be able to move in the ocean…"

"Theoretically." Rakma's eyes were gleaming now, and his grin looked about to split his face.

At this, Harry's face took on a conspiratorial expression. "Theoretically, of course. Then, theoretically, I see no reason to not eat it."

"I'm glad, now to other matters. There isn't much more you need to know about the world you'll be entering. I suggest taking the first few months there to train yourself though, as you may find yourself encountering some dangerous situations. One important thing I have to warn you about though is the possibility of you developing some Seer abilities."

"What?" Harry choked.

"Yes, I know," Rakma gazed at Harry, his face the picture of exaggerated sympathy. "You see, the ability to See the past and future is something all wizards of a certain power level is capable of. Of course, all wizard of a certain power level are very susceptible to being the subject of a prophecy, which blocks their Seeing abilities. This is what happened to you, but in your new world, there are no prophecies, let alone one about you, so you should start developing the abilities within a few years."

"I – bloody hell, you couldn't tell me this earlier?"

"Nope, now, here's your money – I converted your holdings into the proper currency," Rakma thrust a trunk into Harry's hands with a large grin and shoved him towards a side door, "try not to die too soon!" And without so much as a farewell, he kicked Harry out the door towards the smell of the sea, and slammed it shut.

"Good luck Harry."

A/N The next chapter will be about Harry getting to know his new powers, trying to manipulate his magic into giving him immunity from the sea, and maybe some other details I've yet to work out. If you have questions or suggestions, please let me know. I'm currently beta-less, so let me know if you see errors, in my writing or storyline. Thanks for reading!

Edited

10/13/10

10/15/10

12/5/10


	2. Chapter 2: Settling In

A/N: So I was stressing over Bio and this lab assistant in Comp Sci, and I check my email, and WOW! There was a flood of alerts from fanfiction . net informing me of people who wanted to read the next chapter! So, of course, it made me so happy :) Thanks for your support, everyone!

Chapter Two

Settling In

"He didn't have to kick me, the bastard," Harry said, as he had landed face-first in the sand. Shaking sand off his head, he sat up to take inventory of what he had and where he was. What he had was simple enough, if not a bit interesting as well. There was of course the trunk that Rakma had shoved at him before kicking him into the new world. Opening it, Harry could see that it was filled with a paper currency he had never seen before.

"Beli?" Harry wondered aloud as he read the word printed on the sheets. "Strange. It's going to be so annoying trying to figure out how much everything is worth now."

Setting aside the trunk of money for a moment, Harry notices a strange blue object next to him on the sand. Visually it was hypnotizing, composed of individual swirls like the shells of snails, each a different shade of blue, which formed a generally egg-like shape. It smelled sweet, and its flesh gave just a bit to the touch. Looking closer, it seemed to have a stem protruding from its curved body. "This must be the Devil Fruit he mentioned. What to do… should I eat it now? I don't know exactly how I'm going to use my magic to protect myself from the water yet, so it might be a bit dangerous. I think I'll figure that out first before eating it." And with that, Harry stuffed the fruit into one of his bottomless pockets. "Wouldn't Hermione be proud? I thought things through for once." It was a sad thought, and Harry couldn't help but pause a moment to wonder if he would ever make another friend like her. Near the end of the war, she was still the bossy bookworm, but gained the reputation for always having a new spell on hand that would be useful in the next battle. What kind of people would he find in this new world? Would they truly be able to understand how it felt to live a war that never seemed to end?

Shoving his thoughts aside, Harry looked to the last item on the sand that seemed to have accompanied him to the new world. He laughed. Sitting innocently on the sand was the tea cup he was drinking from at Rakma's house, still as full as ever. After some simple experiments (drinking from it, tipping it over, throwing it ten meters high into the air), he found that it was ever-full, never-spilling, and nigh on indestructible.

"Wicked," he said, and then stuffed that into his pocket too.

Looking around at his location, it was clear that Harry was on the shore of a small island that seemed deserted, but lush with vegetation, especially large trees in the distance that would tower over even Hagrid. Closer was the ocean, and so Harry was inspired to try his theory about using magic to make him immune to sea water.

"No time like the present!" Grabbing his wand, he shrunk the trunk of money to stuff into his pocket, and then waved it over his head.

And then paused. What spell should he use? He couldn't recall learning anything that would suit this situation. There was the Impervius charm, but it was a weak spell unlike what its name implied, only capable of redirecting rain – would rain affect him after he ate the Devil Fruit? – not pushing aside huge bodies of water from touching his skin if he immerses himself in the ocean. He could extend the bubble-head charm to cover his whole body, but encasing his body in a bubble wasn't very practical for swimming purposes, not to mention would look ridiculous and bring up far too many questions that he'd be uncomfortable with. Maybe, he could manipulate his secondary magic for the effect he was looking for? His secondary magic was a pulse of magic with a specific intention. His first success was a pulse of "life-force" that accelerated plant growth and could theoretically speed up the healing rate of animals and humans – it was inspired by his need to do something other than destroy and kill like in battle. Maybe if he could emit a constant pulse from his very skin with the intention of pushing away the water a centimeter or two, he would never get wet and could still move around in water the same way he used to.

"Alright, no time like the present to try it out!" Theory always sounds so great in one's head.

"Damn it." Harry laid down exhausted and soaking wet on the sand. It took a few tries to manipulate his magic into a pulse from his entire body, not just his hands, but that was the easy part. Harry soon discovered that maintaining a constant pulse a mere centimeter from his skin at a constant force like he imagined took an incredible amount of focus and stamina. Focus and stamina that he did not have.

"Focus and stamina, huh?" Harry groaned as he realized once more how much he hated Fate. In one of his attempts to continue living in his previous life, he tried to learn swordplay. It was an accepted hobby by society, and it satisfied his battle urges with its history in a battles and war. A local dojo taught a unique two sword style with a Japanese katana and a dagger. "You need to focus more," his sensei often lectured, "and your physical stamina is poor. We will work on that. Focus and stamina are both important skills for the future."

Harry highly doubted this was what his sensei had in mind, but damn he hated how everything in his life seemed so connected; it was like someone else was writing out his destiny for him!

Heaving himself up, Harry walked towards the forest to start making a shelter. If what Rakma said about the chaotic state this world was in is true, then there was no point in Harry leaving this island to explore until he trained enough to defend himself from possible enemies. His knowledge of this world - and his current location in respects to other islands - was limited, so the Devil Fruit was his best bet for preparing to deal with any fights, and if he had to train his magic and swordplay to best utilize that advantage, that was what Harry was going to do. Setting his mind to staying on this island for at least a few months, Harry magically cut down a large tree and transfigured it into a simple hollow block of wood with an opening he could walk into. It would do as a house for now. The rest of today would be spent on gathering firewood and food. Tomorrow he would train in swords to raise his focus and stamina, before practicing his water immunity magic again. If he worked hard, he may reach the point where he'd feel safe eating the fruit in a month.

There is something about isolation on an island that works as a great motivator. With nothing else to do, Harry found an incredible fountain of focus within himself, and all the physical activity with his swords helped raise his physical stamina as well as his ability to pinpoint his focus as sharp as the edge of his conjured blades. Practicing his pulse magic raised his magical stamina just as quickly, and trained his focus to encompass the broader field of his entire body. His mind was set on a single track with his Devil Fruit as a goal; it was perhaps good luck that he discovered someone to talk to after the first month. What he thought was a deserted island turned out to be not so deserted after all. Its sole inhabitant besides Harry was an adolescent boy who lived in a tree house that Harry accidently cut down for firewood. Boy was that a lecture he hoped never to have to hear again. After saying his piece, and extracting a promise from Harry to collect firewood from fallen branches instead of whole trees, the teen finally concluded that since Harry destroyed his home, he was now Harry's responsibility, and the only way to properly take that responsibility would be to allow him to stick around everywhere he went. Everywhere. Sometimes, Harry wasn't sure if it really was lucky that he discovered the boy and not just another curse in his messed up life. Though eventually they would've met – the island wasn't that big after all.

"So, so, so, Harry? Ya gonna try it again? Try it again! I wanna help, I wanna help! Please, please, please?" Did he mention that the guy never shut up?

"Yes, I am, as soon as you get off and shut up you spaz." Harry replied, shrugging the boy's arm off his shoulders.

"Stop playing with my name, Harry, geez, and I'm off, see, see? Now gimme the rope! I'll pull you up if you drown, swear I will, really, really!" Yes, that's what he said, his name is Spaz.

Two weeks ago, Harry had finally decided to eat the fruit, which was, incidentally, almost as bad-tasting as some of the potions back home, and saw the first piece of evidence when he accidently stepped in a pool of rainwater. He wasn't paying much attention to it, since he was just fine being rained on the previous day, but apparently the large pool of standing water was different from rain. Sure enough, his physical energy seemed to drain rapidly through the foot that was in the water until he collapsed, his body thankfully tumbling a bit from the momentum and tugging his foot away from the water's grip. The danger of the situation fully dawned on him as he lay on the sand, recovering. His energy returned quickly, but the shock lingered. From then on, Harry did his best to maintain his anti-water pulse as much as possible, even falling asleep with it on and pushing himself to wake up with it there. The next time he stepped into the water was a few days later, after finding Spaz and discovering his eagerness to "help." Tying his wrist to a tree with a conjured rope, he tested his ability in water, trusting his new companion with Gryffindor brashness to reel him back to the shore if he lost the energy to return to shore on his own. Spaz had amazing strength considering his small size, and when Harry's first test failed due to a previously unnoticed leak on his scalp, Spaz saved his life enthusiastically (he reeled Harry in so fast, Harry flew out of the water several meters).

Harry quickly grew to appreciate Spaz after that, though he was disgruntled at the unwelcome flight.

"Ready Spaz?" asked Harry, slinging towards the boy the other end of the rope he tied to his wrist.

"Ready as ever, yes sirree, I'm ready, no worries Harry, I've got you covered!"

"Mm-hmm, don't get too excited. I haven't almost drowned in three days now, you know." And with that, Harry dived in to practice swimming. As he swam, Harry pondered the Devil Fruit. The Fruit had changed something else about his body, but it was so strange that Harry wasn't sure to make of it. Once, during an argument with Spaz, he managed to insult the teen so much that he began delivering "the silent treatment." Harry didn't mind the quiet so much, but the obvious "I'm ignoring you" attitude reminded him of Ron who was six feet under rose bushes back home. Not to mention, his new companion looked so put out by the situation, that he finally said, "I am glad you're here with me" as a gesture of reconciliation. Spaz, in his elation, immediately tried to pounce on him, but instead went straight through, shocking them both. After days of experimentation, Harry was still thoroughly confused about the parameters for his ability, but at the very least he knew he could render his body immaterial as a ghost until something triggers the ability to shut off, returning his body to its material state. It had a lot of potential as a defense in battle if he ever figured out how to start and stop it, but as offense, well, it wasn't easy trying to pick up a sword or wand with immaterial hands, and anything that immaterialized with him became useless in attacking. It was the strangest thing, but even his "immaterialized" magic became completely ineffective on living things other than himself. He'd make a great spy if he combined his power with a disillusionment spell, but as a fighter, he had to depend on swordplay and magic.

"Neh, neh, Harry, so, when are we gonna go someplace new, huh? I wanna meet more people! Explore the world! Taste new food! Yeah, yeah? Come on, Harry, let's go, let's go!"

"Spaz, how many times do I have to tell you that I wouldn't know where to go or how to get there?" A casual flick of his wand hidden in the sleeves of his robes conjured up his practice blades as he settled into a casual starting stance before continuing his talk. "We either have to build a boat and float somewhere depending on pure luck or wait for someone to drop by and either give us a ride or give us more information about where the heck we are." Inhale; he raised his right arm, loosely positioning the katana in front of his chest, his left hand hovering between the sword and his waist. "Since we have yet to see any boats, we'll have to keep stocking up on supplies before we can even think of attempting the first op- !" With a grunt, Harry stumbled a bit, releasing his weapons and clasping his hands to his temples as images flashed across his mind. A small town, a young girl, rain, tears, unique but forced laughter.

With a groan, the vision faded, and Harry returned back to consciousness of reality where Spaz was frantically asking him if he was alright.

He blinked and realized that he just had his first Seer vision. And not only that, he instinctively knew that if he tried to apparate into the town he just saw, he'd succeed, no problem.

His weapons reappeared in his hands and Harry returned to his position, ignoring Spaz's indignant exclamations about how rude it is to ignore someone. Thankfully they stopped as Harry inhaled deeply again. There was a pause, before he exhaled explosively, his long blade cutting sharply to the left. He spun with the momentum, his left hand flicking off throwing knives at imagined targets as he turned a full circle, ending with an upward then downward slash, punctuated by a stab from the dagger his left hand now held after expelling his knives. Inhale; exhale. He vanished his blades and turned back towards the pouting boy.

"Hey Spaz, what do you think about maybe leaving this island tomorrow?"

A/N: And that's it for now. Please keep reading my work :) If you have requests for future events, or predictions for what's happening at any time, I'd love a review! I think I can reply to reviews individually, and you get the replies in your email, right?

Also, do any of you know whether or not I'll loose my reviews if I re-upload a chapter? I kinda want to get rid of a few grammar errors in my first chapter. Thanks!

Seven reviews as of today, October 11, 2010! Thanks guys!

Edited

10/13/10

10/15/10

10/30/10

12/05/10


	3. Chapter 3: Learning the Ropes

A/N: Hey guys! Fall break is over for me :( But that doesn't really affect you guys at all since it doesn't change my update schedule, haha. Thanks everyone for reading! The flood of alerts letting me know people are interested in seeing how this fic turns out is really awesome.

By the way, I forgot a disclaimer last time, so I'll just say right here that I own nothing of the story, past, present, and future, 'kay? So I probably won't bother with disclaimers for any other chapters either.

Chapter Three

Learning the Ropes

Spaz was, predictably, delighted at the possibility of leaving as soon as tomorrow and quickly ran off to pack. _Very quickly_. As Harry shook his head in exasperation over his companion's childish behavior, he couldn't help but pause to think about the mystery that was Spaz, not least because of that inhuman speed and strength he now knew the teen to possess, but because he knew very little else.

Spaz, after his lecture and impromptu decision to stick around Harry, never talked about himself, and never asked Harry questions. Oh, sure, he asked about food, and water, and if he could help with Harry's swimming training, and when they could leave the island for someplace else. But he never asked Harry about why he did such strange swimming training, or where he learned his sword-style, or even why Harry was on a seemingly deserted island. Of course, he never offered to explain his own presence, and Harry never asked.

On the surface, Spaz was like another Colin Creevey – always talking, always hanging on, always energetic to see him. But there was something different, and it wasn't that Harry wasn't a celebrity in Spaz's eyes. He talked a lot, but always shut up on his own when he saw Harry training with swords, or meditating on his magic – though Harry had yet to tell him about magic and probably never would – as if he understood the importance of such actions. And maybe he did – one usually didn't gain the ability to pull Harry through the air or run at such high speeds without a healthy respect for training.

Spaz seemed energetic enough when he fell out of that tree, but his face was drawn, his eyes bloodshot, and his appearance unkempt. A week later, he looked more presentable, but there was no denying his inhuman strength and speed, or the fact that he was just a teen, alone on an island, who didn't even care about the past of the first human who shows up. Or maybe he did care, but didn't dare ask because he wasn't willing to reciprocate. That suited Harry just fine.

There was something about Spaz that reminded Harry of, well, Harry. There was once when he tried to escape society too – though why go to an island when the Forbidden Forest worked just as well? It didn't last long; Harry missed human life, and he suspected that Spaz may have also until Harry showed up. One month. That's how long it took for the two of them to meet. The island wasn't big – Harry could easily see if a boat approached from any side, so he knew that Spaz was likely here the entire time, and yet somehow Harry never noticed him. Most likely, Spaz noticed his arrival and took care to hide himself; and if Spaz could hide himself for a month from Harry, it just didn't make sense for him to fall out of a tree that Harry spent a good five minutes cutting down as katana practice. Spaz must have made a conscious decision to reveal himself. Hell, Harry didn't know if that was really his name – his parents must've been really eccentric people if so.

It seemed this world really was quite chaotic, if it could produce people like Spaz at such a young age, and since Spaz could swim just fine, there were probably many powers out there besides the Devil Fruits, probably martial arts related. Part of Harry felt worried, but another part felt excited. His Gryffindor sense of adventure was reviving, and as he realized that, Harry couldn't help but laugh and run after his – friend? – to pack his own stuff for their trip tomorrow.

"Got everything?" Harry asked the next morning. Spaz was gone all night, only just returning now, an hour after sunrise. Harry spent the time packing away food into his bottomless pockets, and transfiguring some large palm tree leaves into a wallet to store some money – after all, it wouldn't do to open his trunk of money worth several hundred thousand gallons in the middle of a store to pay for some food in such a small town as he saw in his vision. Spaz, it seemed, didn't have much to take. He looked like a typical runaway, actually, with his dirty-white baggy-sleeved shirt and brown baggy pants held up by a tightly cinched black belt, and a large blue handkerchief Harry could not remember ever seeing before tied to a long pole rested on his shoulder, bulging with unknown items.

"Yes sirree Harry, I am ready! When are we going? How are we getting there? Will it take long? Is it a place with food? Can I -?" He cut off the string of questions when Harry abruptly stuck both hands out in front of him.

"Hang on, and don't freak out."

"Why Harry!" Spaz exclaimed as he tucked the pole diagonally into his belt to free his other hand and grabbed onto Harry's hands. "You need to keep a more open mind, yes you do, and stop worrying so much, 'cause really, I'm not the kind of person to frea -!" Cut off again (a more quick-witted person might have noticed by now that Harry was deriving a twisted bit of amusement from interrupting Spaz's babbling brook of a mouth), this time by the strangest squeezing sensation as the sand, trees and ocean around him were suddenly replaced by simple stone houses and dirt paths, Spaz gaped.

For a moment, it seemed Harry might have actually struck Spaz speechless, but as he smiled to himself over the alliteration he just created, Spaz went and ruined it by snapping close his jaw and sniffing the air.

"This town has food, Harry, com'on com'on, let's go, I want food!"

Harry resigned himself to being pulled along by the sleeve as Spaz followed the smell of food, talking the whole time.

"Wow, this place is small! But there's people and food and I wonder where we are! I bet we can find out at the tavern, I wonder if a town this small has good sake, and geez it sure is sunny today, huh?"

That was true – that last comment about the sun. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, light streaky clouds could be seen high up, and the dirt paths were so dry that small clouds of dust rose with each step the pair took. It wasn't as serious as a drought if the occasional thriving flower gardens he passed by were any indication, but at the same time, it didn't seem like it had rained here for several days, and wouldn't be anytime soon either. And yet, Harry's vision of the town was one where rain poured down from a blackened sky. Was it a vision of the past then? Or the future? Magically, visions of the future would require a lot more power than vision of the past, and as it was his first vision, Harry felt pretty safe assuming that the vision was one of the past.

Was it important? Will he ever even meet that little girl who was crying in the rain? And even if he ever did decide the vision was important or met her, what could he do about it? Without magic, it was doubtful that there were Seers here – and Rakma did say that there were no prophecies in this world, right? So if he ever told anyone he could see the past or future, they'd think he was crazy at best. It might be wisest to not read into his visions too much and just deal with things as they come.

As they walked, the duo came upon a slightly more populated area, the dirt paths slowly transitioning into cobblestone, and the smell of the ocean growing stronger. The town was oriented around a port, and open stands of groceries and baked goods lined the streets, people calling out their wares as small boats docked at the port just ahead.

"Whoa, did we leave the Grand Line? I always wanted to sea one of the outer four seas! I wonder what kind of food they make here. Can we look, Harry, huh, huh, can we?"

Grand Line? Outer four seas? There were five oceans, Harry knew, and if seas and oceans were interchangeable here like the reference to the "Seven Seas" back home, then the one they came from was the Grand Line, which is surrounded by the other four. How did that work? One thing Harry was going to need soon was a map. For now though, Harry walked with Spaz to a bread stand to listen in on a housewife bartering with the baker. He might as well use this opportunity to get a general idea of the currency. Spaz was bouncing up and down, but didn't seem to have any intention of buying. This was something to worry about – did Spaz have any money of his own?

"I'll take a loaf of this please," Harry said to the baker.

"Right-oh, here you are," replied the chubby old man with a smile, "haven't seen you around before. A new merchant?"

"Just drifting actually," Harry said as he took the strange loaf and handed over some bills as marked on the stand. He wasn't buying much, so there was little point in trying to bargain over it. The large amounts surprised him, though; each Belli seemed closer in worth to a pence than a pound.

"Oh-ho, enjoying youth, eh? Well, you might want to think about taking a break from it for the winter – it's autumn already and the snow will be coming before you realize! There's a nice inn you might think about a couple buildings down towards the docks."

"I see, thanks. I might do that." Harry smiled at the friendly baker and turned away with a casual wave. It was a good idea. Harry was pretty doubtful he could survive on his own for a winter and was feeling pretty lucky that he left the island when he did. It looked like a tropical island, and it probably would've stayed warm as the seasons changed, but who knew if winter might have brought other weather changes like storms?

"Spaz, here," Harry tore off half the loaf (was that a cabbage leaf in the bread?) and tossed it over to the boy who was still eyeing the produce. With lightening reflexes, he turned towards Harry and snatched the food from the air. Again, with the unexplained physical prowess.

"Thanks!" Spaz's eyes glowed with gratitude, but he said nothing more, and Harry didn't push. He had enough money to spare.

"Do you like this town?"

"The food is great!" Spaz managed to say around his large mouthful of bread.

"Well, I suppose that's reason enough. How would you like to spend the winter here?"

"Winter? Huh, it's, um, 1510 AOP, March or April, so we're in a southern ocean? West or South Blue?" At this point, Spaz was pretty much muttering to himself and as informative as it was – oceans in the south? West and South Blue? – it didn't answer the question.

"Well?"

"Sure! That'd be cool! We could explore this island and stuff! I wanna see the local tavern and maybe we could try the sake. I bet I could drink you under the table, Harry, yeah? Whaddayathink? Huh? Betcha I could!"

"Bet you can't," Harry replied, a gleam in his eye as he turned around.

Spaz was delighted. "You're on!"

In the end, the two of them checked into a double room at the town inn with Harry's money and the next day they went and found the local tavern where they proceeded to start a drinking contest with every merchant in the building. Harry and Spaz both became thoroughly smashed, yet still managed to drink everyone under the table but each other, barely hanging onto consciousness long into the night, staggering back to the inn at dawn the next morning, leaving behind a very happy bartender who sold quite a bit of sake to Harry and the merchants.

The story spread quickly, and soon all the townspeople were waving hello to them in the morning, as if they were a part of the town now that they had set a new drinking record at the town bar. It was a welcome and homely kind of attention that was probably also partially influenced by Harry's status as one who had a decent amount of cash on his body.

The days passed leisurely, with Harry and Spaz wandering the town, usually together, but sometimes separated, only to meet up later in the evening at the tavern to share a bottle. The sake was interesting – different from the alcohol Harry was used to from home. They never drunk quite as much as that first day though, as with the winter weather there were almost no merchants to compete with; the docks were quite empty. Training continued. It was lucky that the villagers were a bit dim-witted as a light rain a week after renting a room at the inn revealed that when water stopped a centimeter from his skin, it made a potentially suspicious sight. Harry would have to work on shortening that distance until his clothes and hair would get wet and only his skin would be protected from water.

Harry also occasionally did experiments with Spaz's help to see what kind of water was dangerous. Rakma mentioned seawater, but a wave of it didn't do anything, and a lake of fresh water turned his bones into jell-o. Er, not literally. As far as he could tell, any water gained the property to drain his energy if it sat still long enough and lost that quality with movement. This was a blessing, because although cleaning spells worked just fine, nothing beat a hot shower or bath during cold weather, which he could now enjoy as long as he spelled the water to keep moving.

Spaz was pretty accommodating most days, but whenever he left on his own, Harry would peak into the small town bookstore. It didn't hold much literature because demand for books on the sparsely populated island was low, but they carried maps for the merchants who came and went and Harry found plenty to learn and think about from those. The world was split into four quarters; much like the equator and prime meridian did back home, though here, the splitting wasn't just an idea. A strip of land known as the Red Line circled the planet vertically, and an ocean known as the Grand Line split the planet horizontally. The four oceans other than the Grand Line were North, West, East, and South Blue.

His current location was West Blue, pretty close to the Red Line and thus a relatively good place to be if he felt like crossing over into any of the other seas and met any crew crazy enough to take on Reverse Mountain. He had to buy a few of these maps to keep the owner of the store happy with his constant presence and flipping through materials, but they were all potentially useful. Apparently the Grand Line was known as the Pirates' Graveyard, and the political system was ruled by the World Government who headed the marines in the fight against pirates. The strange ocean was the origin for most tall-tales and ghost stories that some swore were true and others dismissed as empty bragging. This was curious, because from his experience in the Grand Line, there was little to fear. It was, all in all, quite fascinating, and for a moment, Harry wondered what it would be like to explore the Grand Line himself.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked, though I admit there wasn't much action here as it was mostly trying to expand on Spaz and introducing Harry to a possible adventure. Next chapter will be more exciting as Harry will be meeting some key characters :)

Thanks to everyone who answered my question about re-uploading chapters. I edited the first two chapters.

And something I forgot to put in the previous chapter: Thank you so much, RedValentino for being my beta! It helps a lot to have a second pair of eyes for grammar issues, and a second mind for bouncing ideas off of. Those of you who like Spaz, please thank her for the inspiration! I think the character has so much more potential as a human, really, and I hope to keep developing him further.

Twelve reviews as of today, October 17, 2010! Thanks guys!

Edited

12/26/10


	4. Chapter 4: Meeting People

A/N: Hey again, everyone! Or, at least, everyone who reads these notes, which is probably not many since it's before the chapter, and seriously, you're more interested in what happens next! That's why you're here.

So okay, fine, I don't have much to say, anyway. Although, I would like to mention, as I forgot to earlier (I forget to do a lot of things, damn), that I've never read the seventh book of Harry Potter. *gasp* Yes, its true, I'm actually writing a fic about after the war without even knowing how the war ended :P I know some, from Harry Potter fanfictions, but in case any issues comes up, feel free to point it out, but otherwise, if the first chapter didn't make it clear, the war in this story didn't exactly end as well for Harry as in canon and thus most likely was fought completely differently, so most problems can just be attributed to that.

Chapter Four

Meeting People

Winter finally arrived. Spaz was a bit calmer now and stayed indoors most days, though if that was because of the weather or because of what happened last week, Harry wasn't sure. Just because the villagers were too dense to see water bounce off him more than a centimeter before it reached his skin didn't mean Spaz was too.

"What the heck is that?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Spaz's eyes widened in regret for his impulsive question, afraid that he had broken their silent pact to keep personal questions off-limits. Harry just smiled, and said, "A power from a different world," and left it at that. Harry had no intentions of pursuing the issue, or using it as a reason to ask questions of his own, but Spaz seemed nonetheless bothered by it, and stopped joining Harry for training sessions.

It was his own fault really. It had been a month since that first rain, but he put his guard down amongst the less observant villagers and quit working on it after shortening the distance to half a centimeter, which is easily noticeable by anyone trained to look for abnormalities. Spaz was apparently part of that group.

It wasn't a huge deal, not having Spaz around as much. Harry didn't have much more he wanted to experiment with when it came to his weakness with water – he could shorten the distance of his water repulsion by himself safely with magical propulsion to rid the water of its draining properties. Hopefully when snow settled on him in the coming days it wouldn't float too noticeably high off his shoulders. And if Spaz had questioned further, well, Harry had nothing to say, really.

During explorations, Harry found a nice area along the shore near the now deserted docks that no one else seemed to visit, so it became Harry's new training area. Sword training was what he did most days now.

Three years. The war had ended when he was eighteen, and Harry hit himself with the green light just five days after his twenty-first birthday. During those three years, Harry dabbled in many things – he lived in the wild for a few weeks and picked up a few survival skills; he tried to learn a musical instrument and eventually managed to play the fiddle passably; he joined the dojo for his sword style two years ago but treated it as more of a side hobby after his first experience with secondary magic half a year after that; hell, Harry had even taken art lessons and woodwork classes and dance workshops and visited countless countries. Three years with a need to keep moving, and no job, little social life, and even less sleep due to insomnia and nightmares made Harry jack-of-all-trades, master of none. Except magical battle from the war, which became useless both back home and here in this new world – many spells and strategies are useless when your opponents don't attack with magic.

So here he was, trying to polish the one skill he learned that might actually be useful now and maybe rework his magic to suit the new situation when he noticed someone had beaten him to the normally vacated beach. This someone had come in a small boat and just docked. It was a girl, mid-teens – looked about Spaz's age. Her black hair was in a pony-tail and her clothing was of a rather revealing cut, showing her to be well-endowed and quite pretty. She was tying her boat to a pole when Harry approached.

"Hello. It's not often someone shows up by sea in the winter."

The girl turned suddenly, her blue eyes snapping up, and for a moment her face looked familiar.

_A small town, a young girl, rain, tears, unique but forced laughter._

Before Harry could think any further about the subject, however, arms sprouted from her shoulders as she formed a defensive stance, another arm appearing from the pole and holding onto the boat.

"Whoa!" Harry held his hands up to show he had no intentions of attacking, but couldn't help his curiosity for what he was seeing.

"Are you, a Devil Fruit user?"

The girl seemed to contemplate him a bit, before finally her extra arms shimmered out of existence, though the arm holding the boat remained so that her full attention was on Harry.

"You're new."

What an odd statement to make. "Do you mean to this island? Yeah, how'd you know? Did you used to live here?"

"Hmph. If you were here when I was, you'd have run off already."

"From a pretty girl like you?"

For a moment, she seemed flustered by this statement, but her eyes narrowed as she replied coldly, "Do not think to underestimate me for it. To answer your earlier question, yes, I am a Devil Fruit user." Wow, and to think he thought his own Devil Fruit ability was weird.

"Cool, so am I." A tingle through Harry's fingertips followed this statement, alerting him to the fact that right now he was immaterial again. He wasn't quite sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing in his current situation with this girl who could apparently sprout extra limbs from not only her own body but also from inanimate objects around her. Probably good, right? This was also the girl from his vision. Looking closer at her as she was taken aback by his confession, Harry couldn't help but notice that this too was a youth who had known hardship. What was this world he had entered? For a bit, the naïve villagers reassured Harry that the humans here were still pretty similar to home if a bit less advanced (except for that time he could have sworn the innkeeper used a _snail_ as a telephone), but once more here was evidence that not everywhere was so peaceful. This girl is not yet completely mistrustful towards the world for she had relatively easily accepted Harry's position to not fight, but her caution could be seen by her choice to keep her eye on Harry rather than continue to tie up her boat and she seemed cynical of public response to her Devil Fruit abilities.

Crying in the rain. She was how old in that vision? Nine? Ten? And already laughing through her tears alone. It reminded Harry of his days in his cupboard, though he never laughed, only cried silently.

"So what are you here for?" Harry finally asked, breaking the strange silence.

"Stocking up on supplies, mostly. Then I plan go to sea, maybe join a pirate crew."

"Join a pirate crew?" This pretty young woman of maybe only 16 years was going to join a pirate crew? Is this kind of behavior common?

"What, going to call the marines to let them know the Demon of Ohara plans on joining another pirate crew? I'm afraid you won't get much money for that. With 79 million on my head for sinking six Marine warships, knowing that I joined a crew isn't going to do you much good."

"Demon of Ohara? 79 million? Is this well-known in the area because I'm afraid I've never heard of such things," Harry muttered bewilderedly. This world was old-fashioned, sure, but somehow Harry never though too much about the bounties he read about, assuming – rather naively now that he thought about it – that they were only for the cruel, pirate captains who came in large ships and pillaged small towns for gold and resources. And Demon? This girl was powerful with her strange Devil Fruit power, sure, and probably quite cold in personality as a result of her harsh life, but it was a bit much to call her a Demon. 79 million! That must be more than half a million pounds – what for?

The girl seemed amused by his confusion. "Fufufufu, you're so clueless it's almost cute. I'm afraid that won't save you though. I have places to be, and you're an unknown, and thus a risk." Hands sprouted from the ground next to Harry's feet and reached towards his knees, probably with the intention of forcing him to the ground and holding him there so she could pass safely, but as he was still immaterial, the plan failed. As the arms slide through his body, the girl could only stare at him in shock – maybe she didn't believe him about his Devil Fruit ability?

"What is your name?"

"R-robin," she stuttered, "Nico Robin."

"It was nice meeting you, my name is Harry," and here Harry paused a bit as he reminded himself that in this new world, the family name came first like in most Asian countries back home, "Potter Harry. Do you have a dream, Robin?"

"Of course. I'm an archeologist; history is my dream and ambition!" At these words, Harry could see a glint of passion in her otherwise cold expression, and he felt a sense of relief. He knew very little about Robin, but he couldn't help but be glad that she had a healthier pursuit than vengeance. Suddenly, his body felt like it was swelling with the need to say something, and he opened his mouth to let it out, magical power flowing over his tongue.

"It is a good dream. You will have friends one day who will support this dream." This statement seemed to shock her further and her eyes glazed over a bit, like she was thinking about a long ago memory. Finally, she asked,

"Where are you from?"

"Me? That's a good question." Hah, a good question indeed. Should he tell her he's from a completely different world and was brought here because he committed suicide? Yeah right. But from what Spaz said, that island he first landed on was in the Grand Line. Would that work as a place of origin?

"I guess I'm from the Grand Line." And with that, Harry walked back to town, leaving Robin with her thoughts. He could sword train tomorrow. Now, he was more interested in the subject of his first vision, and maybe even his first prophecy.

Robin came into town later that day and stocked up on supplies, just as she said. Using her powers, she easily cowed the villagers to be cooperative and not a single one dared to call her a demon or alert the marines. Harry watched all this bemusedly and a little bitterly as his Seer abilities gave him flashes of images from the last time she was here as a young girl and how they treated her like a freak. It was an unwelcome reminder of his own past, not only with the Dursleys but with the sheep of the Wizarding World.

She left the next morning and sure enough, joined a pirate crew soon after. Later, when the crew forced her away for reading Poneglyphs, Robin would think back to this strange man she met who hailed from the Grand Line, and it would influence her to enter the dangerous ocean herself at the age of 23 in the hopes of finding the nakama promised her by no longer only one, but two men.

The village was tense for a few days after Robin's visit, but it faded with the holiday cheer as the village prepared to celebrate the tenth snowfall of the winter. It was a local tradition, done only on this particular island, and thus was easily organized around the weather that changed from year to year.

Strangely enough, Harry was witness to yet another vessel to dock at the port of the island in wintertime, this time a rather large pirate ship. The Jolly Roger was proudly raised on its mast, the bones replaced by sabers – or were they cutlasses? – and the skull sporting three diagonal slashes across one eye. It was familiar, though this time not through a vision. Perhaps from one of the books he read? As it pulled up, the villagers quickly spotted the ship and a rush of excitement was felt as people flooded the streets to watch the pirates dock. Spaz was standing wide-eyed near the edge of the crowd, and Harry quickly made his way over.

"So I assume these pirates are special?"

"Special?" Spaz squeaked, "It's the symbol of Shanks, leader of the Red-Haired Pirates! He's a Grand Line Pirate that even the World Government keeps a special eye on! What's he doing here in West Blue?"

The innkeeper cut into the conversation here.

"Don't you know? Shanks loves a good party! He comes here every winter to enjoy our sake during our Snow Festival. He may be a pirate, but we try not to think about that. He doesn't do any harm, and he's technically a local."

"Yeah, not to mention the local marine can't do a thing to him, anyway," yelled out a young man with a large grin. He didn't seem the least bit disturbed about the fact that local law enforcement was helpless against this famous pirate crew, and while it was likely because he was an ignorant little fool, Harry did feel a bit better about how at ease everyone was. Except Spaz, but even he seemed to quickly collect himself and join in the general cheer.

Harry himself was very interested to see these strange, "harmless" pirates. If they were here for the festivities and sake, then he would no doubt meet them if he waited in the tavern, but one good look at that ship wiped his mind clean of such timid thoughts. The ship was the largest he'd ever seen with a gorgeous, stream-lined body, three tall masts, and four proud white sails that were being pulled in as the ship anchored. Harry was a complete novice when it came to the sea, but this was plenty enough to impress him, surpassing the Durmstrang ship from fourth year easily. What would it be like to step foot on a ship like that?

A smile formed on Harry's lips. Well, he'd need to learn more about ships anyway if he was going to have adventures in this world, right? Harry knew exactly where he planned to be this evening while the pirate crew was celebrating.

A/N: I actually like the ending sentence to this chapter :) Though I wonder if any of you hate it because precisely because it is the ending sentence and not a transition to the rest of the chapter? Haha, sorry, you'll have to wait another week! Or another week after that, because the next chapter will actually be a bit of an interlude. Hmm, now I feel bad! Tell you what, I'll post the "interlude" Friday and the next "real" chapter the following Monday, 'kay?

Thanks again to my beta RedValentino!

Twenty-one reviews as of today, October 23, 2010! Wow, thanks everyone!

Kitty says thanks too

))

(( =( . .)=

Edited

12/26/10


	5. Chapter 5: Contemplating Harry

A/N: Hello again! Its so brilliant to know random strangers out there are interested in my story :) I hope you enjoy and that I continue to be inspired.

Chapter Five

Contemplating Harry

It's June, 1510 AOP, and I'm not studying the Moon Step, or the Tempest Kick, or the Finger Gun with my instructors on an isolated island of the Grand Line, hoping to be inducted into the CP9. Ya know, I'm not even in the Grand Line anymore which is a particularly strange thing 'cause I've yet to see the famous Reverse Mountain or cross the infamous Calm Belt on a marine ship, no sirree, I seemed to have skipped all the steps in between and hopped directly into West Blue! And the only explanation I can give is Harry.

Harry is this guy I met on a tropical island when I was still in the Grand Line and though my own world was shaken, at least reality was still as right-side up as can be expected on the most dangerous of the five seas. Let me tell you, things didn't stay that way long. Just a few days of finding the island and me building a tree house, I look up towards the sky and see a door – a _door _– open up in the sky and out flies a guy and a coupla unidentifiable flying objects. Yep, if the UFOs weren't weird enough, they and the guy lands on the beach of _my_ island just blocked from my view by the treetops in the way. I didn't honestly expect to start having hallucinations after just those few days without eating – heck, I did drink rainwater the day before – but I wasn't taking many chances after that. I forced myself to eat, but did that make the guy go away? Nope, no sirree, it didn't help at all.

At first, I was kinda curious about him, ya know, 'cause he was this random person who literally dropped out of the heavens and didn't seem to have much of a purpose. He wasn't looking for me, that's for sure. A few days of watching him swim and train with swords, it was pretty clear that he was too weak (I estimated a Douriki level of maybe 20, which is strong for a civilian but pretty weak considering that just a few days ago I was surrounded by people with levels of at least 150) to be a practitioner of the Six Powers. Although once I could've sworn he chopped down a tree and transformed it into a hut, all with a few waves of his hand but that's not possible, right, right? I mean, it was probably a trick of the light, or something, and if it weren't for the fact that he was swimming earlier I'd have guessed he was a Devil Fruit user, though nowadays I'm questioning even that conclusion.

After awhile, I started to ignore him. If I stayed in my tree house and only fetched food and water when he was asleep or busy, it was simple enough to stay hidden. I spent a few weeks trying not to think about anything, about _her_ and _him_ and not even acknowledging the possibility that I couldn't live this way forever. Of course I could live this way forever, yeah, I mean, geez, I've got all I need and I sure as heck wasn't going back and there was nowhere to go to, so I was going to stay right where I was and the rest of the world would just have to deal!

But before a month was up, I found myself watching the stranger train during the day and sleeping only in the presence of the fire he lit every evening. Then I had dreams about talking with him. I wanted, needed, to talk to someone, I'm a chatterbox, everyone back home knew it, but every time in my dream, he'd ask me where I came from, or why I was on this island, or about my physical ability, and I'd wake up in a cold sweat. I couldn't talk about that, and most definitely not to a complete and utter stranger!

Then one day, he finds me. I don't think he _found _found me; just happened to pick the tree I was living in and tried to chop it down with his katana. I think. He was hacking away at the trunk with his katana anyhow, stopping between strikes to examine the cut. I knew I had to leave, had to find another tree, build another home – certainly not just stay here and be discovered and have him ask strange questions or whatever else a weakling like him (come _on_, he couldn't even slice a decent cut into the trunk; his grip was decent but his muscles were too weak to properly utilize that blade) might do when he discovered what I was. But I didn't move. My body didn't listen, as was becoming customary by then, what with the sticking around even though I knew I should've moved camp a week ago when he started exploring the area and when the tree finally toppled, I landed right in front of him and proceeded to rant about the waste of cutting down trees when there was perfectly good wood on the floor.

Yeah, I enjoyed that. I had someone to talk to, and so I babbled at him about trees and wood and fire and nature and who knows what else as he stared blankly. As I finished by claiming that now I had to live where he did because he destroyed my home, he merely blinked, shrugged, and said "okay," before turning away to his strange hut, gathering fruit along the way. Actually, thinking back, we never did finish using that tree as a lumber source.

He never asked me about anything. I talked constantly, but never asked more than for his name ('Harry'), and what was for dinner ('fruit' and a weird look 'cause that's the only thing available to eat unless we caught a fish), and whether I could help with his training ('sure, pull me up if I start to drown'). I didn't want to give him any reason to ask _me_ any more personal questions or questions about the past, so I never asked why he trained with swords, or where his weird style came from, or why he trained in swimming, or why – even stranger – his swimming ability plummeted so suddenly. Harry took it farther. He never asked me _anything _outside my opinion on leaving or staying on the two islands we've been to. Anything! Even my name was something I offered up.

Yeah, he calls me Spaz. It's not my real name, no, ha, the poor kid to have parents who would decide on a name like that! But just because Harry never asked me questions doesn't mean he never said anything, just very little. That first day, I talked and talked and talked as he stored away his gathered fruit, bouncing around and probably making a nuisance of myself – hey, it was the first time I communicated with a human in a month even if he never said much back – and finally, he looked at me with an exasperated expression and said "calm down you spaz."

That brought up some unwelcome memories. Instinctively, I made an annoyed sound in response. Spaz. She used to call me that, those few years when a group of us trainees were staying at a marine base. Thinking of her was painful, especially when I remembered how she was murdered by someone I had actually admired – ! But there was Harry, an eyebrow raised in question over why I actually shut up because of such a simple phrase. It was an awkward pause, but just as Harry shrugged off his curiosity to go back to his fruit sorting, I cut in, "That's my name, don't mess with it."

"Spaz." It wasn't a question, but I could hear the disbelief in his tone of voice.

"Yep, that's me, Spaz is my name, and – "

I don't remember what I said after that. Nothing of any meaning – just me trying to fill the silence, to forget the last person who used it, to not think about the reason behind me telling Harry about it.

I'm thinking about that reason now. Have you ever heard of the psychological explanations behind the Stockholm syndrome? It's pretty weird, but, well, the mind works in strange ways. The ease I feel around Harry, the reason I gave him that name to use even though he is nothing like the only other person to use it – she was bright and cheerful and talked almost as much as I did though she wasn't nearly as jittery – is it because I've watched him for a month? Because I craved companionship? Because he was the only person there after abandoning my old life?

Watched him for a month. During that month, he was a mystery, but as a Grand Line dweller, I was confident I could find a "how" behind his sudden appearance, even if I didn't dare discover the "why." Hah. Yeah right. That transformed hut of his? It's made of wood alright, by that tree he cut down right before, I'm quite sure. But the origin of the wood isn't the problem. The hut had no cracks. Don't get why I'm so uppity about that? There's a floor, four walls, a flat ceiling and a hole for a door that he sometimes covers with palm leaves like a curtain, but the grain of the wood flowed flawlessly across the corners. It's not just awesome craftsmanship, this is serious craziness 'cause no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't see a single point where separate pieces of wood came together, and the direction of the grain tracing from wall to wall – he didn't just cut down a monstrous trunk and hollow it out one day when I wasn't looking.

I honestly didn't believe he was someone who could survive the Grand Line when I first met him, which begged the question as to why he was here. And yet, he's no innocent, naïve little kid who came to challenge the stories and legends he's heard of about this ocean. He looks older than I am – I'm sixteen, he looks maybe nineteen. He takes his training seriously. If he took it seriously his whole life, he'd be better though, so maybe an experience in the Grand Line shocked him to start now? But he has good work ethic, pretty good reflexes, and decent wilderness survival skills, suggesting previous experience in fight conditions.

I fell through him once. Literally through his body, though it looked no different before and after. Was it a Logia fruit power? But there were no wisps of some element reforming into his body after I fell through, so maybe Paramecia? He looked just as shocked as I felt. And the next morning he went swimming again. He didn't have any issues in the water the next two days either, before we left the island.

Leaving the island. Now that's the mystery of mysteries when it comes to the Harry, and I'm finally back to the problem I was thinking about. Within the span of a second, bam! The two of us were transported from the Grand Line to West Blue! Like, like, that shouldn't be possible! It was unthinkable! Reason and common sense about the Grand Line is pretty loose compared to what we've learned about how the outer seas work, but there was one thing we all held as true – the only way in and out was Reverse Mountain, Mariejois, and through the Calm Belts unless you're crazy buff and decide to just climb the Red Line. Just what the heck is that strange power and does it have anything to do with his almost Devil Fruit power or his seamless hut or his weapons that never seem to be around until he trains with them or the rain bouncing off a good half centimeter before reaching his skin?

That was a mistake I regret. It was just such a shocking sight that the question blurted out. Harry, thankfully, just gave a mysterious answer and let it go. Isn't he funny? I don't understand him one bit! That power – how strong is it? Could he potentially use it to make himself immune to the weakening affects of water as a Devil Fruit user? From "another world" is how he put it. Is that a reference to the second half of the Grand Line known as the New World? Is he actually some really experienced traveler of the Grand Line who has the strength to travel instantaneously wherever he likes or is it just a neat trick? And why did he choose this village? Is there any relation to the sudden headache he got before making the decision to come? He's just too weird, too unpredictable, and unbelievably frustrating!

I often wonder what kind of life he had before we met. Sometimes, he seems pretty wise and stuff for his age, like, that work ethic I was talking about earlier, or how he doesn't ask me questions like he understands why I don't either, or just his more mature attitude when he was the first to reach out after our little row back on the island. Haha, yeah, I don't even remember what it was that he said that got me mad, but it wasn't all his fault. I think, in my anger, I remembered all the worries I had about ever talking to him in the first place, so once I stopped, I just got frustrated and couldn't start again, was afraid to start again; maybe even too proud. And then he was the first one to talk, and it wasn't to ask what my problem was. He admitted a weakness, the same weakness as mine but I was too afraid and proud to acknowledge, the _dependency _on just _having _someone. He's a better person than I am, even if he's weak. And then I discovered his ghost-power, which messed up the weak/strong thing even more.

But for all that attitude of his, he often does things that seem really naïve. And stupid. And bad for future survival. Like trusting a total stranger to rescue him from drowning. Or his ignorance about the identity of a Yonkou, of Shanks who has such a presence in the world that people recognize him and his crew by his red hair alone – did he live under a rock? Sure, some islands of the four Blues are pretty isolated from any of the famous pirate battles, but a guy who lives in the Grand Line and has split second access to this island in West Blue, the ocean Shanks hails from, should have some idea at least of the significance. He even seemed pretty damn oblivious to the significance of Nico Robin's visit, yet another huge name pursued by the World Government and who was born in West Blue.

Sometimes he does stuff that I don't know whether is because he's stupid or because he's just that kind of guy. Like him paying for everything for the both of us without a word or question or explanation. It started with just sharing a loaf of bread – yeah, I was an idiot and forgot about the concept of money. Can you blame me? Before, all my food was either supplied by our trainers or to be collected ourselves from the wilderness. But he also paid for a double room at the inn, and all our meals afterwards. Is it wrong to complain about this behavior when I'm benefitting from it? But really, now I wonder where all his money comes from, to have enough to spare for an extra person he knows nothing about without so much as a blink of an eye.

Haha, maybe he's some rich heir to an estate who felt like traveling the world before having to be tied down to his "duties." Pfft. That may explain why he has a good work ethic – probably studying finances and stuff – yet little strength to show for it, but he doesn't buy anything extravagant like you might expect of someone who's grown up in the lap of luxury. Other than room and board, I've only ever seen him pay for that first loaf of cabbage bread and any of the sake we end up drinking. Ah, the sake. The time we got into a drinking contest; boy did he seem five years younger with that prankster glint in his eyes and later when totally buzzed from all the alcohol.

Though, he never lost consciousness. The only other person I know who I can't drink under the table like I threatened Harry is. No, the only other person I _knew_ who I _couldn't_ drink under the table like I threatened Harry _was_ – was a female marine who called me Spaz and then was murdered because she was an obstacle, a hostage in that marine base to a pirate but the one who murdered her wasn't the pirate but someone I admired, someone I and my training mates aspired to, because at the age of thirteen the World Government held him in high esteem for a mission I had not known, had not realized was what resulted in a massacre and –

I kick the air with a Moon Step, feeling my mind battle between the disgust I had for what this technique might have helped that man do three years ago and my rational understanding that these techniques are all I know when suddenly Harry steps through – literally – the door.

"Hey Spaz," he says, ignoring how I fall from the air onto my bed. "What do you think about tagging along with Shanks' crew for a bit?"

_Tagging along _with pirates. With a Yonkou pirate crew. I search his face and see curiosity, some anticipation, a bit of excitement, but otherwise completely casual. Yeah, I don't get him at all.

A/N: So there you have it, some of Spaz's background. I hope this helps in understanding him as more than just a filler character. If you have any questions or suggestions or even requests, I'll listen and answer but no guarantees I can fulfill all your desires, haha.

Thanks again to my beta, RedValentino.

Question for the readers! I've noticed that isn't picking up on the lines I insert to split chapters at time breaks. Have there been any confusing transitions so far in the story? Because if you can understand just fine, then I think it's better if I don't add the lines, but if you think it would make things clearer, I don't mind. Thanks.

Thirty-one reviews as of today, October 29, 2010. *squee*

Thanks guys :)

Bunny jumped for joy too much, so he'll be taking a break here.

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	6. Chapter 6: The Decision

A/N: Happy Halloween! Sort of. Technically it was yesterday, but I didn't post yesterday, so I'm saying it now :P I hope you all had a great candy-filled day! No tricks, 'cause tricks are bad...

Although, I might make Harry play a trick some time in the future... hmm, food for thought :)

Chapter Six

The Decision

That evening, every villager left their homes for the center of town. Stalls were set up, lights were strung from lamp post to lamp post, and the tavern was bustling with the laughter of drunken pirates and townsmen who gathered either foolishly believing they could keep up with the seadogs in alcohol intake, or just to hear the strange tales of a crew who traveled the Grand Line with legendary ease. Everyone was participating in the festivities. Well, except Spaz and Harry. Harry was far more interested in sneaking onto the pirate ship to explore and as far as he could tell, it was quite deserted.

Spaz, well, Spaz was staying in the hotel room. Harry didn't really understand it, but he dismissed it from his mind quickly enough. It wasn't any of his business, so why bother worrying about it?

The timing was perfect, for once. The Potter luck had kicked in and Harry's Devil Fruit Power activated halfway through the day while he was talking with Spaz when they were helping the innkeeper decorate the lounge for the festival spirit and was still going strong. A quick sensation of an egg cracked over his head later, Harry was immaterial, disillusioned, and ready for an adventure.

Standing on the dock, the ship loomed a good two or three stories tall, rocking gently in the waves, a simple but fierce dragon protruding as the figurehead. The sides had a motif of waves, interestingly enough, that almost but not quite distracted one from noticing the five openings lower down that no doubt served as windows for cannons. But the masts. Seeing that tall middle mast rising high above, holding two furled sails, Harry decided that was where he was going to start.

Of course, he had to get on the ship first. It wasn't the biggest ship out there, Harry was quite sure – though he had no personal experience to back up such a conclusion – but the pirates anchored it a little ways off, nonetheless, and came to shore on rowboats. It would look ridiculously suspicious if one of those rowboats suddenly began rowing itself back to the main ship, so he'd have to swim. Casting a warming charm on himself, Harry slipped in and swam through the water, protected by his secondary magic from the ocean's weakening effects.

Swimming quickly, it wasn't long before he reached the hull, and, struck by sudden inspiration, Harry reached his hand in and moved straight into the vessel rather than locate and climb the rope ladder. It had a surprisingly welcome side effect. Because his magic pushed the water away continuously as he moved, it pushed away the water on the hull's surface as he reached in such that when he emerged on the other side, he was completely dry and would not leave water droplets everywhere. Something to think about for later, Harry decided, smiling as he could almost hear Ron exclaim "Wicked!" and Hermione's excited babbling as she thought up of at least a dozen other ways Harry could utilize this effect of combining his magic power with his Devil Fruit power.

Darting through the cargo holds, subconsciously marking in his head a simple map of the area and potential exits, Harry finally found where to climb out to the deck. He came out pretty close to one of the rope nets leading up to the uppermost look-out post of the middle mast, so, he climbed up. The sea air blew through his hair as he climbed. It was tiring, but the wind made him nostalgic of days when he flew through the sky.

Nostalgic or not, flying on a broom or a hippogryph or a thestral was a heck of a lot less exhausting than climbing netting! He took a break at the lower look-out post and gazed out into the ocean. Not much could be seen at night, but the moon hung crystal clear in the sky as all the clouds had snowed themselves out last night, and stars twinkled both up high and in the reflection of the ocean water down below. It was a good view.

Harry gazed back toward the village. The buildings looked smaller than ever from both away and above. But he was not high enough. Harry had experienced heights that made his current position seem like child's play! Strength training was added to his mental list of things to do and Harry continued up.

The upper most lookout post was also home to a smaller Jolly Roger flag. This one looked hand-painted, the design on only one side and with some rough-edged brushstrokes, but otherwise identical to the larger one at the stern that announced their identity. Actually, if he squinted, Harry could see a bit of color on this smaller flag. Just what – ? He perched on the railing of the crow's nest and reached towards it, hoping he could angle it in the moonlight for a better look since he didn't dare cast a lumos. Taking a moment to adjust to the sway of the ship, Harry almost laid a hand on the corner of the fluttering fabric, forgetting for a bit that in his immaterial state he couldn't physically move it, only to find a sharp blade in front of his head pointed towards his mouth.

"Back off."

Reflexively, Harry slid back, still perched on the bar. To his alarm, the blade followed despite his invisibility, and when he jumped down onto the platform for better maneuverability, it slashed across his face, drawing blood. 'How? I'm still immaterial, aren't I?' Harry thought to himself, testing it by sliding his arm straight through the wood beneath his feet. And yet, there was blood dripping down his face and probably on the enemy's weapon as well, though he didn't know if said enemy could see or feel it.

"A pirate's flag is a symbol, you know, a treasure for their crew, and once lost, it isn't something that can just be replaced."

"Hey now," Harry spluttered, caught off guard by the strangeness of the words, "I just wanted a better look."

A figure stepped out from the shadow cast by the mast and into the moonlight. It was a man, about Harry's height. Beneath a straw hat one could see his hair was a vivid red color and three scars across his left eye. It was a strange combination of features, both frightening and friendly, especially that grin.

"Were you really?" he said, sheathing his blade, a saber Harry could now see, with a grin. "Dahahahaha, you know kid, that's what the big one is for!" The man leaned against the fence facing Harry. "So, what prompted your curiosity, eh boy?"

Resigning himself to the fact that this man could sense his presence, Harry dropped the disillusionment, but was careful to keep his wand hidden up his sleeve. This man was dangerous, but strangely enough didn't seem to have any intent to harm him anymore. The tension that was in the atmosphere just moments ago had utterly vanished.

The man blinked a bit in shock as suddenly Harry came into view. "Wow, neat trick! How'd you do that?" His eyes sparkled like a muggleborn first year after Professor McGonagall transfigures her desk into a pig and back.

"Um, secret, I'm afraid."

"Ah well, that's too bad. So, what brings you aboard my fine ship tonight?" His ship? So this man was?

"So you are Shanks, captain of the Red-Haired pirates?"

"Dahahaha," the man guffawed, his head thrown back in laughter, "yep, that's me. So you came here without even knowing that, eh? Damn, Kid, you here on a field trip or something?"

"Your ship is beautiful."

"That she is. You came to see her up close?"

"Yeah. Though, in the end, the view from up here is all I really got around to seeing."

"You like heights?"

Harry smiled, "the higher the better."

Shanks laughed his interesting laugh again, and reached over to slap Harry on the back, only to go straight through. Looking over at Harry, Shanks gave a low whistle. "That's neat." Steadily, Harry felt the tension build in the atmosphere again. It was intense, but with no intent to harm. Instead, it wrapped around Shanks' body like armor, and when the man reached over again, he touched Harry's body like it was solid. Harry's eyes widened.

"How?"

"Guess you've never met a Haki user before, eh Kid?"

"Care to explain?"

"Eh, I'm no good at that kind of stuff. I don't know how well I understand it myself. Everyone's got it though. It's just a matter of using your ambition as presence, intimidation, and fighting spirit, yeah?"

It was a pretty vague answer. Haki, something everyone is born with in this world, so what about himself? Did he have this power, or does his existence as one from a different world make him an exception? That'd be too bad, but this power – it had the capability to render his Devil Fruit power useless, and that was an intriguing, as well as worrying, thought.

"How many people can use this power?"

"Hmm? Oh, not many out here in the Blues. A decent number of people in the Grand Line are pretty good at it though." He seemed to bore of the conversation and with a flash, jumped out of the post and onto the netting. "Wanna tour then, since you only got to see the view from up above?"

Shanks was a strange man! To think that this person who Harry could feel was capable of killing him in just seconds would have such a flippant attitude that made his worries dissipate into thin air.

"Sure!" As Shanks clambered down, Harry didn't even try to follow and instead sunk down using his Devil Fruit Power. As long as Harry was "inside" something solid, gravity had little control over his movements, so with his hand sunk into the mast, he slid easily through all obstacles and came to a soft stop upon reaching the deck.

"Awesome! Hey, what's your name, Kid?"

"Harry. Potter Harry."

"Well, Harry, how would you like to join my crew?"

"What?"

It really is hard to tell when people like this are being serious, but Shanks insisted on inviting Harry to join, and finally they agreed to have Harry make a decision by tomorrow. In the meantime, Shanks led Harry through the ship, excitedly pointing out the figurehead as a potential look-out post, the kitchen as a place where every pirate took a turn at cooking (except for this one person named Lucky Roo because apparently he ate more than he cooked!), and the map room which held a collection of books, some simple sketched out maps, and an entire wall filled with globes that looked a bit like compasses that could point up and down as well as around, either attached to watchbands or inside wooden structures similar to that of hourglasses. Soon, Harry bid Shanks good-bye, and swam back to the island. He was mindful of the fact that the man showed Harry nothing important to the defenses of the ship, like where they stored weapons (though Harry had already passed by some cannons on the way up to the deck unbeknownst to Shanks) or where everyone slept, or even where most of their resources were like ship parts and money and food beyond what could be found in the kitchen. It could be that Shanks just didn't find any of that interesting enough to include on the tour, but Harry thought it was more likely that Shanks just knew better. That Haki. If the power is from his ambition, then his ambition must be great, and one doesn't gain great ambition and then harness a power like that without knowing the dangers of letting people know too much.

He recalled that blade opening a cut under his eye. Harry shuddered. To have been attacked when he thought himself safest, to have the air suddenly thicken from the man's Haki. It was eye-opening.

Did he want to join this man and his crew? To live with that new danger?

Of course he did! That's why he came here, isn't it? To feel the pressure of battle again, and to force himself stronger in order to protect himself, to fight for his ideals! With this man who caught him by surprise and had the strength to kill him without magic, how much could he grow?

Did he actually want to become a pirate of all things? To just pick up his stuff and be a man who lived on the other side of the law?

And yet, why would that stop him, really? The law meant little to him back home as part of a vigilante group, and from what he's seen so far, not all pirates pillaged helpless villages. This pirate in particular travels the Grand Line! Just think of all the adventures to be had! What reason could he have to turn down the possibility? He'd ask Spaz if he'd be okay with it, he thought to himself as he returned to the inn, ignoring the festivities going on around him, and that'd be that.

"Hey Spaz," he says, not bothering the open the door and just stepping through, "What do you think about tagging along with Shanks' crew for a bit?"

A/N: And we return to where we left off last chapter, finally understanding just what the heck happened in order for Harry to decide to join Shanks! Though knowing Spaz's background, the answer to Harry's flippant question won't come easy.

I hope this also opened up on some more information about Harry's power, though he still doesn't know how to turn it on and off consciously. Also, please let me know if future "contemplating Harry"s would be welcome.

44 reviews as of today, November 1, 2010~

Thanks everyone :)

Edited

11/1/10

12/26/10


	7. Chapter 7: Friends and Companions

A/N: Hey guys, it's been another week. The One Piece manga is picking up speed again and I am so excited to see their improved fighting abilities :) It's unfortunate that the Straw Hat pirates won't be joining my story for quite some time, as I've got about ten years to kill, but I'll get there!

I do wonder, though. So many people are alerting this story (*squee*) but how are you guys all finding it? Like, did you all honestly find it by checking the Harry Potter and One Piece crossover page, or just Harry Potter crossovers in general, or just One Piece crossovers in general, or...? 'Cause there's hardly anything in the HP/OP crossover category. Please maybe mention it in any future reviews. Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

Chapter Seven

Friends and Companions

Spaz seemed, strangely enough, not so excited about this idea. In fact, he fell from the air – Harry was a bit confused about how he got up that high so far from the furniture – and didn't get up. Strangest of all, he didn't say a word.

"Spaz?"

"Shanks?" he squeaked out. "You want to join a pirate crew?"

Harry frowned. Could it be that Spaz didn't like pirates? Maybe he used to be a marine – it would explain some of his strength since no doubt marines received training and participated in battles. It would also go a long way in explaining why his reaction to Shanks' arrival was one of fear and shock despite all the villagers knowing that he wasn't a violent person. But if he was a marine, then that complicates things.

Even if he wasn't a marine; if Spaz disliked pirates or even Shanks himself due to personal reasons – Harry wasn't so foolish as to believe Shanks was always just a peaceful pirate who loved parties just because he could put Harry at ease so quickly last night. He's no doubt killed before, as proven by his attack in the crow's nest, and even people who claimed to fight on the side of justice often did things morally ambiguous. If something Shanks did bothered Spaz, then Harry wasn't going to force the topic.

"It's just an idea. It won't mean anything to me if you say no. We can still stay here the rest of the winter." A burning sensation through his fingertips heralded his return to the material world, and Harry began to remove his outer clothing as he waits for Spaz's reply. What he just said was a lie – it would matter; Harry would be disappointed if Spaz said no. But he wasn't going to drag a reluctant Spaz along and he wasn't going to just leave him here either. Spaz was the closest thing to a friend he has!

Harry paused at this thought. Was Spaz a friend? Despite knowing practically nothing about him? But they had been together for several months now, living together on an island, and then in a hotel room, and drinking together often. There was no reason not to consider Spaz a friend, even if Spaz didn't return the sentiment, and Harry wanted to stick together with him. If Spaz rejects this opportunity, Harry would be okay with waiting for the next one that would be more agreeable to them both.

"Can I," Spaz finally spoke up, his voice soft and timid, "can I have more time to think about it?"

"Sure. I haven't agreed yet or anything, so take your time."

Nothing else was said, and Harry fell asleep to silence for the first time in months.

The next morning, Spaz was already up and gone. Passing by the inn keeper on his way to breakfast, Harry learned that he had left an hour ago without eating. Deciding to let Spaz think on his own, Harry wandered around town, wondering if he should take the time to start that strength training he promised himself last night when from the corner of his eye, he saw Shanks, walking down a side street, eyes red from a hangover, another man beside and slightly behind him with an exasperated expression on his face.

Harry smiled. Haki, apparently, was how Shanks sensed his presence last night, but he wondered if this other person, probably a member of his crew, knew it too? A quick dart behind a tree and a disillusionment charm later, Harry hurried after the pair, trusting in Shanks sense of humor to not give him away.

As he moved closer, Harry could feel the air grow steadily thicker. He was surprised he hadn't noticed before. Shanks probably had been using this kind of Haki that could detect the presence of people ever since arriving, though the range was actually minimal and couldn't possibly reach the ship from island – he'd have to ask then about how Shanks knew he was on the ship.

Finally reaching Shanks, he fell into step next to him as Shanks looked over and said,

"Hey kid, make a decision yet?" The game being over, and the other man's surprise at his captain's words pretty much giving away his ignorance to Harry's presence, Harry dropped his disillusionment charm. With a flash almost as shocking as Shanks' attack, a rifle was pointed to Harry's head and a menacing cock sounded in Harry's ear. Harry had snuck peaks of enough Wild West movies that Dudley enjoyed in his childhood to know what that meant.

'I have got to stop getting myself into these situations!' he thought to himself, as he slowly turned to face the other man.

"I don't mean any harm to either of you," he stated calmly, his heart not one bit calmed by the tingle in his fingertips. He knew very little about Haki, sure, but from what he's seen Shanks demonstrate, there was definitely more than one kind. Sensing a person's presence is one thing; imbuing skin and weapons with it to injure a Devil Fruit user is another. Just because this man couldn't sense his approach didn't mean he couldn't still injure Harry despite the Devil Fruit power.

"Er, Shanks, does this guy know Haki?" Harry threw out there, as the man with the rifle seemed to be in no way placated by his words, eyes glaring down the barrel – bloody hell this guy was tall, teeth chomped tight on a smoking cigarette, and probably still spooked by how Harry snuck up on the two.

"Well, he's learning a bit, but he can't shoot any bullets of it," Shanks said with a grin, looking on at the situation like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Thank Merlin for small favors then, but do you think you could maybe tell him not to test it on me?"

A flicker of comprehension passed over the man's face, and he tentatively moved his rifle forward, eyes widening as his weapon passed right through Harry's head. With a sigh, the man put his rifle down and glanced over Harry's head to look at Shanks.

"So this is the new crew member you were going on about last night and getting yourself ridiculously drunk over? Figures you'd pick him for a reason like this."

"Hey," Harry protested, "I haven't agreed yet, you know!"

"So that's what you're here for, right?"

"Er, about that, it's not up to me, exactly. I think it'd be pretty fun, but this guy I'm traveling with – "

"Well, he can come too!"

"Captain, honestly, you know nothing about this other guy, about either of them really. Can you even trust them to survive the Grand Line?" the other man butt in, extinguishing his now useless cigarette for a new one.

"Aw, geez, Beckman, we're not going to the Grand Line at the moment, just passing through. I want to go visit East Blue a bit after I experiment something first in the Calm Belt. We can decide on his ability to survive then, yeah?" Shanks had an awfully suspicious look on his face when he said the word 'experiment.'

"Er," Harry spoke up, "I don't mean to interrupt, but while its awful nice of you to invite my friend too, he's having trouble making a decision, and if he says no, then it doesn't really matter if I'll survive or not. Although," Harry said, steering the conversation away as he really had no idea what Spaz would choose and isn't willing to explain further, "I did have a question for you, Shanks."

"Shoot."

"How did you know I was on the ship last night? I get that your Haki can sense me, but from what I can tell, it's got a range of maybe a couple meters. What gives?"

"Dahaha, you hear that Beckman? Kid can sense the edges of my Color of Observation! Ain't that something?"

Beckman, who was sputtering at the idea of Harry actually being on the ship – apparently Shanks wasn't too clear on the details at the tavern last night when he was celebrating a new crew member – gave his captain a half-hearted glare for actually appreciating this unknown character's ability to sense such a weakness.

"Actually, last night I forgot to bring the extra belis for my favorite sake that I left in the lower crows nest, and when I felt a presence, well, I checked it out and sensed you up there in the lookout platform with our Jolly Roger! Hey! That reminds me, you never did say why you wanted a closer look at it. Usually the bigger one at the stern is good enough for the curious."

"Caught because your enemy was absentminded; that hasn't happened in awhile." It was true. While Harry had done a few raids on Death Eater hideouts during the war and experienced a few close calls by unexpected early returns similar to Shanks' early return for his money, the last stretch was mostly a war of attrition where Voldemort and his followers clashed daily with Harry, the Order of the Phoenix, and the Aurors.

"Well, I thought the smaller one had some color on it and wanted a better look at it to see for sure. Seems a bloody stupid reason to almost get killed, though." Harry looked sharply to the right. For a moment he thought he saw Spaz's silhouette.

"I'll see you guys later."

"Hopefully next time you'll call me Captain, eh Kid?"

"Don't bet on it. You'd have to stop calling me kid, first, and I'm not going anywhere without the other guy either way so you might as well stop asking!" And with that, Harry sprinted off with Shanks' laughter in the background.

"He's got a good attitude at least, Captain."

"True that," Shanks replied, leaning against a building to shade his eyes from the sun. "Makes me wonder who that friend of his is."

Harry searched around a bit, but couldn't find Spaz, and soon gave up. Shanks didn't seem in any hurry to leave yet, and he did tell Spaz to take his time with the decision, but he was beginning to feel a bit worried about how boy was taking the whole situation. It's incredibly difficult to know how best to approach a person when you know nothing about his past.

Giving it up for now, Harry walked to the beach designated as his training grounds instead. Strength training. How in bloody blazes was he supposed to do that? Nothing of the sort was necessary as a wizard for battle. If you were a duelist, then reflexes, a good spell repertoire, and a trained magical core were far more valuable than muscle strength. Duels typically were quite short, so stamina was hardly ever a problem. For longer, more chaotic battles during war, well. If you were tired, drink a Pepper-Up. If you were trying to escape, apparate. If you needed to climb anywhere, levitate yourself. Even quidditch was a sport of little physical activity. Flying on brooms required a good center of gravity, so some abdominal muscles were necessary, but other than chasers and beaters training their upper-body with practice shots and hits, not much else was done because no one believed it mattered.

But here, it did matter. And now, Harry was stuck, needing to train, but with no idea how beyond what little he picked up in primary school PE. His gym teacher seemed pretty strong. Er, what did he do? Harry picked his mind, trying to remember his "before-Hogwarts" years, but couldn't recall much from that particular class other than trying to look invisible so Dudley would forget to smash his face in with the dodgeballs. Then he thought back to Dudley's TV shows. No, nothing but fancy punching and kicking which he might practice later, but he'd probably pull a muscle trying that kind of thing right now and there was no muscle relaxant potions to use anymore. What about when Dudley was trying to become some sort of champ boxer? His trainer had given him a list of exercises that Aunt Petunia stuck onto the refrigerator. There was something about push-ups on that, right? Harry remembered push-ups from PE class, though at that age, very few of the kids were any good at it.

With a sigh, Harry dropped to the ground for some push-ups. Maybe as he worked out, he'd be able to sense the effects of certain exercises and move on from there.

Six reps of ten push-ups later, Harry was sweaty, exhausted, and sore. He was also frustrated and no closer to understanding if what he was doing was helpful in any way. How unfortunate that despite all the hobbies he picked up over the years, exercise wasn't one of them! Except sword training, but he mostly worked on it as an art form since there were no practical uses for it as a battle style back home, and maybe dance, but really, he wasn't going to tango his way up the netting to the crow's nest!

"Ya know," Harry heard a voice as a shadow moved up across his face as he laid in the sand, "you should probably be doing aerobic stuff like running before bulking up on muscle, 'cause you seem more like the body type that would work best with speed, and running's good for that and stamina and general leg strength, plus you already have good reflexes and stuff so that's a good thing to build on when training for a fighting style but you don't have to 'cause its really just an idea yes sirree I don't mean much by it or anything and I'mnot trying t'be nosy andaskabout – "

"Spaz."

The increasingly unintelligible babbling stopped for bit. "Yeah, Harry?"

"Thanks. I think I will try running. It makes sense."

There was a pause and the shadow moved away, but instead of leaving, Spaz plopped himself down next to Harry and stared at him with a pensive look on his face.

"You're weird, ya know that, Harry? I can't tell if you're strong or weak. I mean, you're above average in physical strength, and your reflexes are pretty good, and you're a pretty hard worker, but you obviously didn't get it through normal training 'cause you don't even know how! It's like instead of getting stronger to fight, you ended up in fights and got stronger by accident. And then, you throw in weird stuff like a ghostly body and stuff appearing from nowhere without even stuff like a Devil Fruit or high-tech weapons to explain it."

Silence fell between the two. Harry wasn't about to volunteer any information, and Spaz didn't seem to expect him to.

"Neh, Harry," Spaz spoke up. "I don't mind going with you on Shanks' ship, but I don't want to be a pirate."

Harry smiled. "Well, guess I better ask if Shanks wouldn't mind settling for some traveling companions instead of crew members."

A/N: So now it's up to Shanks if they'll be setting off or not, though I guess it's pretty obvious whether or not he'll agree. I don't know if any of you guys noticed, but I wrote this chapter in present tense, as opposed to the past tense I've been using in chapters 1-4 and 6. Please let me know if you prefer it this way! **

Thanks again to my beta, RedValentino!

A/N2: People seem to prefer past tense, so I changed this chapter to match.

59 reviews as of today, Nov. 9!

Thanks everyone!

/\/\

=(^-^)=

Edited

12/27/10


	8. Chapter 8: Drinking Bets

A/N: Hey guys, been waiting long? Haha, it seems so much faster as an author than a reader :) I wonder of this is how mangakas feel, always rushing to submit those twenty pages by the deadline...

Meh, well, just wanted to say thank you to all who answered my question! If you haven't, well, please do. I wanted to know how people find my fic, since the HP/OP crossover page is quite sparse.

Chapter Eight

Drinking Bets

In the morning, Harry woke up sore, but excited. After Spaz's agreement to travel with Shanks' crew if they are accepted as traveling companions, he sat there awhile longer and watched Harry run, giving pointers on how to stretch afterwards, before the two of them returned to the inn for dinner.

As for Harry, the exercise of running was slightly more familiar to him than push-ups as he had spent a large fraction of his childhood running from Dudley and his gang during Harry Hunting. Sprinting came easily as a result of this experience combined with his lightweight body, but long-distance running was a bit harder. It was something he would have to work on.

Today, however, Harry was going to look for Shanks and ask if he wouldn't mind the two of them joining as people less intimate than crew members. It might be a hard sell, but it couldn't hurt to try, and Harry was still very eager to start a new adventure.

Quickly dressing, Harry grabbed a quick breakfast with Spaz, who woke up at about the same time as Harry, and the pair walked out the inn. Harry breathed in the crisp air and took a moment to marvel at the sunrise before turning to Spaz and saying,

"Well, Spaz, you ready to go find Shanks?"

Spaz grinned cheerfully. "Yes sirree, Harry, I'm ready, we're gonna meet a Yonkou and I still think you're crazy but I wonder what he's like and if he really has hair that red and…"

Harry started walking towards the dock, Spaz babbling behind him, feeling for the tense atmosphere that would alert him to Shanks' Haki, his "Color of Observation" is what he called it yesterday. Strangely, there didn't seem to be any sign of it on the main road, or at port, and all the rowboats were still tied to the dock so Shanks probably wasn't on the ship. Where could he be?

Distant laughter rode on the wind from the direction of the tavern. He couldn't be – at this hour?

Harry walked towards the tavern, the smell of alcohol hanging in the air as he opened the door to see a crowd of men, all rather scruffy looking, most of them asleep, lying on tables and chairs and the floor with bottles of sake and barrels of beer scattered around. The only people who seemed to be among the conscious were at the counter, one being the bartender and the other two being Shanks and Beckman. Shanks was guzzling from a tankard, telling stories to the wide-eyed bartender while Beckman looked on and laughed, almost indulgently, though a bit drunkenly as well.

"Kid!" Shanks called out as Harry picked his way across the room, trying not to step on any one of the utterly smashed members of Shanks' pirate crew. "Pull up a stool! Have some sake, on me! This your friend here? Gonna call me Captain yet?"

Harry sat down on an empty stool and shook his head at the bartender when offered a bottle.

"Daybreak is much too early for that, Shanks," Harry smiled and Spaz bounded onto a stool himself, staring without shame at the drunken picture Shanks was currently presenting. He certainly didn't look like one of the most feared pirates of the Grand Line right now.

"Heee, it's daybreak already? Damn, I gotta get my crew moving soon, the lazy louts, dahahaha!" Shanks took another long draft from of alcohol and made no movement at all to suggest doing any such thing to his drunk crew.

"So, what brings you here to this fine establishment?"

"A request, actually," Harry replied, looking a bit more serious now.

"What kind?"

"It does have to do with me joining, actually. Spaz and I were hoping it may be possible to tag along without becoming pirates, like traveling companions of a sort, or hired hands. I have very little experience with ships and sailing, but I'd like to learn, and I can do some simpler chores in the meanwhile."

There was silence from Shanks at this. Finishing his drink, he set down the glass onto the counter and turned to look at Harry with a frown on his face.

"Kid, I don't know what exactly brought this up, but I want you to know that being a pirate isn't just for fun and games, or something to do on a whim. To live our kind of life is a commitment, and if you can't even commit to the title of being a pirate, it'd be best if you gave up on the idea altogether, you understand? I won't be responsible for a pair of boys who don't know what they want and are out for a lark."

Harry looked at the bartender. "I'll have that drink afterall, I think."

When the drink arrived, Harry took a sip, and faced back at Shanks.

"I think, the one who doesn't understand, is you Shanks. We've met no less than three times now, and each time you've asked me to join your crew, yet you don't care to use my name. Recalling Beckman's reactions yesterday, it's clear he believes you only want me along because I can do a few fancy tricks and I'm starting to think the same. You obviously don't take me seriously, as you constantly refer to me as "Kid." Most likely, you were thinking that I could join as a pirate apprentice of sorts for a few months, and if it didn't work out, you'd drop me back off here before returning to the Grand Line. That doesn't appeal to me. Being a pirate is a commitment, I know that. That's why I'm not ready to take on that title. I'd like to travel a bit with you, but if I don't cut it as a Grand Line pirate, I want that to be on my terms, not yours. And quite frankly Shanks, I've never called anyone Captain in my life, and I'm not quite willing to start now."

"Dahahahahaha," Shanks laughed, "you're something Kid! Tell you what, my crew members are all out cold and Beckman here doesn't believe in drinking too much, something about not falling unconscious amongst strangers, but I could use a drinking partner. Let's work out way through a barrel of West Blue's finest, and if you're still conscious, I'll grant your request."

"Neh, neh!" called out Spaz, bouncing off his stool to sit on the counter, closer to Harry and where he could see Shanks better. "Can I join, can I can I?"

"Sure, Boy," Shanks yelled out with a wide gesture of his arms, "you're coming too, aintcha?"

"I'll pour for you Captain," Beckman said with a sigh, "or one of you will end up spilling it all like the last time you held a drinking contest."

"Hey, now, Beckman, that wasn't me who knocked it over," Shanks protested, but he let his first mate handle the barrel and the distribution of tankards filled to the brim with beer.

"No sake this time, it'd be a waste to chug that," Shanks explained, as he held out his tankard towards Harry and Spaz. "Cheers!" And with that, the three knocked back the large glasses of alcohol. The game was on!

"So Shanks," Harry said, handing his glass back to Beckman for the second round, "where're we heading?"

"Confident are we?" Shanks replied with a grin. "We'll be going to East Blue for a bit, visit a few islands, maybe check up on Yasopp's hometown and his wife and kid, then stock up on supplies we can't get here in West Blue, and maybe swing by Loguetown for a trip down memory lane."

"Cheers!" Tankards went back to Beckman for a third round.

"Why Loguetown?" Harry asked.

"Gotta pay my respects for my old captain, you know! Great man, that Roger. Cheers!"

Spaz choked on his beer. "You were a pirate on Gold Roger's ship?"

"Sure! Loads of fun, it was. Guess that's still not too well known, huh?"

"You haven't exactly announced it!"

"Well geez, Boy, I never saw the point."

Spaz chugged down his beer in reply, apparently having nothing to say to that.

If Harry wasn't impressed by Shanks before, he certainly was now. They've barely been together for half an hour and he rendered Spaz speechless.

Accepting another tankard of beer, Harry wondered aloud,

"Gold Roger. Is that the guy people call the Pirate King?"

"Yep," Shanks replied, "though you must've been living under a rock to not know that as a fact. We'll be visiting his execution site, though I can't do it personally since the marines probably wouldn't be too happy about it. You might be able to sneak in, though, since your names and faces won't be on wanted posters if you don't do any pirate activities."

"Brill," Harry said, wondering what the island would be like. "Cheers!" And another tankard down.

"So, Shanks," Harry said again, moving on to a new subject as he waited for his refill, "how much did you drink before we got here anyway?"

"Oh, a bottle or two of sake," Shanks shrugged, "Cheers!"

"Five bottles, Captain, and half a barrel of the same beer you're drinking now."

"Five!" exclaimed Spaz and Harry.

"Blimey," Harry continued, as he accepted the final tankard of beer. Sake has about five times the alcohol content of beer. To have drank five bottles of sake in addition to the beer they're downing right now and still be coherent was impressive, to say the least. "If this game was until the last one conscious I'd feel bad taking you on. Cheers!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself! You may have won yourself a place on my boat, and I respect that, but it'll be stormy day in the Calm Belt when a kid like you can drink me under the table, five bottle advantage or not!"

"Then how about a wager?"

"Oh? I'm listening."

"That tankard of beer there is empty, so me and Spaz will be joining you on your ship as, er – "

"Hired cabin boys might be the best way of puttin' it."

"Yeah, that works. So we'll do stuff like cook and clean and probably learn how to sail a ship, but it'd certainly be nice if your crew members could spare some time once in awhile to spar with me. I'm pretty weak, but I figure it'd be worth my time if all I do is dodging as they attack."

"Dahaha, sounds doable! I think my crew won't mind. Maybe we'll hold a weekly exhibition of it, yeah?"

"Lovely. Have the whole ship watch me get my arse kicked."

"I'll bet they'd all come, too. So, if you win, I'll make sure at least once a week someone in my crew knocks you over in a bout. What are you offering me, then?"

"Hmm," Harry thought on this a bit. Offering money didn't seem right in this kind of bet, but what else did he have to give? He had nothing worth teaching, and other than the Belis Rakma gave him, the only material possessions he owned were –

Of course! Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his tea cup, then turned around to Spaz who was talking with the bartender now that the drinking game was over.

"Spaz," Harry called out, tossing the tea cup over, "catch." With lightening speed, Spaz snatched the cup from the air.

"A cup? Where'd you get this, Harry?" Spaz asked, before peering in. "Whoa! Is that tea inside?"

"It is a teacup, after all, Spaz," Harry teased. "Drink from it."

"Tea's not as fun as sake, but okeedokee, Harry," Spaz took a large gulp and looked again into the cup. "Hey! It refilled! Harry, what – ?"

"Toss it back, Spaz," Harry interrupted, and Spaz, with an odd look, lobbed the tea cup back to Harry who caught it and presented it to Shanks.

"This cup," Harry explained to Spaz and Shanks who now were both very curious and very interested in this new object Harry had introduced, "as you've probably noticed, is not just a cup. It's filled with tea from my homeland and never runs out. The tea doesn't spill and the cup," here Harry raiseed the teacup above his head and let it fall to the floor where it landed with a light thud but still perfectly intact despite its delicate handle and thin walls, "doesn't break. I think a unique item like this would be worth a pirate's time to be drinking for, yeah?"

"Man," said Shanks as he picked up the cup from the floor and looked at the tea inside, "this sure is a neat little thing! Alright, you've got yourself a wager, Kid. Let's drink."

"You wanna join, Spaz?" Harry asked.

"Nah, not this time. I wanna watch the show! It's a drinking bet with a pirate! I'm not missing this for the world, no sirree."

"Guess I'll keep pouring then," Beckman sighed and nodded his acknowledgement to the bartender who retrieved more bottles of sake and some shot glasses for the competitors. This was going to be fun.

A/N: So, some comments on this chapter. First off, it's still in present tense, yes. I got about two votes for past tense, two for don't care, and one for present tense, which overall is pretty inconclusive... So for the next few chapters I will be using present tense. Please keep telling me how you feel about that! If you're adamant for one tense over the other, feel free to put in an additional vote, haha. I hope to have a definite answer by chapter fifteen and then I'll go back and rewrite chapters to match whatever tense you guys end up choosing. Thanks!

A/N2: Just a note - the readers seem to prefer past tense, so I changed the chapter to oblige :)

Also, umm, I don't drink. I've honestly never even had a drink... However, I would like to make it known that between this chapter and the next, my characters are NOT NORMAL. I'm pretty sure that most people would pass out after everything I plan on having them drink, or at the very least suffer from blackouts such that by the next day, they wouldn't remember anything they did after certain point in time. I do not condone binge drinking! . However, Shanks and Harry and Spaz will be fine just 'cause they're crazy like that :)

Umm, what else... I apologize for the slow moving story, but meh, I plan on this story going on for a long time, especially since until the One Piece manga ends, there's no end in sight for this fanfic of mine.

Thanks again to RedValentino for being my beta!

I have 77 reviews as of today, Nov 16, 2010! Thanks everyone!

Edited

12/27/10


	9. Chapter 9: Fun Times

A/N: Another week flew by! I haven't been making as much progress on this story as I would like... :( I feel kinda guilty about not having anything new for my beta to review in so long, but the meh, hopefully once the next two chapters are typed up, the story will start moving along a bit more smoothly.

Please enjoy! This chapter doesn't have much plot to it, but I like it 'cause it amuses me :)

Chapter Nine

Fun Times

"Welcome one and all to the drinking contest of the year!" Spaz announced to the tavern filled with unconscious pirates. "Here we have our island's very own Potter Harry who co-holds the record for most sake drank in a night in this very tavern challenging the legendary Yonkou, Shanks, captain of the Red-Hair pirates! Who will kiss the floor first this morning? Stay tuned to find out!"

"You going to do that the whole time, Spaz?" Harry asked with an apprehensive expression.

"Yes sirree, contestant Harry, you betcha!" came the reply, Spaz bouncing on the counter with an upside-down sake bottle in his hand acting as a microphone.

"First mate of the Red-Haired pirates will be pouring shots of sake for our players until someone forfeits, loses consciousness, or throws up – ew! The stakes? Harry has bet his strange teacup which remains inexplicably full and intact despite how it's handled in return for Shanks' offer of weekly spars with his crew members! Who will be leaving the tavern today with more than just an upset stomach and killer headache? Let's beeeegiiinnnn!"

"And the first shot is knocked back with ease! Beckman refills each glass to the brim. Both contestants eye each other with calculating glances, what could they be thinking?"

"By some unspoken agreement the second shot is downed and Beckman refills."

"And again, the third shot gone. Neither contestant is showing signs of being affected by what they've just ingested. Now might be a good time to mention that before starting, each contestant drank a third of a barrel of beer. Before that, Shanks actually drank five bottles of sake and half a barrel of beer on his own, a ridiculous amount to have drank yet still try to compete, though he does have more body mass than his opponent and it has been scientifically proven that people with larger bodies can handle more liquor. The fourth and fifth shot are gone, and still no signs of who may win!"

"What's this? Shanks is laughing! Shall we listen in?"

"Dahahaha, you're doing pretty good Kid, but maybe you should slow down a bit. Youngsters like you are useless onboard ship when sick 'cause they overestimate themselves at a bar."

"Ha, speak for yourself, old man. Don't think you can take on everybody with that five bottle disadvantage!"

"Hey now, I ain't old! I'm not even thirty yet, you know, just turned twenty six!"

"If you can call a twenty-one year old a kid, then I can call a twenty-six year old an old man, yeah?"

"A strange conversation to be sure, but during its course, another two shots were knocked back and neither seem anywhere near ready to give up! Could it be possible that the bartender will have to be the one to throw in the towel when he runs out of sake?"

"No worries about that, Boy!" Shanks called over. "I've been coming to this island yearly for three years now. He knows to stock plenty of sake come this time of year, eh?" Shanks faced the bartender, who grinned as he raised up four more bottles as proof for the accuracy of Shanks' claim.

"So, Mr. I'm-twenty-one, feeling the buzz yet?"

"Ha, don't you worry, Mr. I'm-not-old, buzz or not I'm not falling out this soon!"

"And the game continues! Another shot is knocked back! And another! And another! The speed is amazing! As soon as Beckman tops off the second glass our contestants chug them down without hesitation. This is binge drinking at its finest. I honestly can't tell who has the best chance to win!"

Beckman topped off the presented shot glasses with practiced ease as Harry and Shanks tear through each glass with vigor.

"Oh, what's this? It seems they're slowing down! Yes, it's true, they have lost speed! Shanks' eyes are just a bit glazed over and Harry fumbled his empty glass. Could the end be near? The shots are still being knocked back. Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six – "

"No! It can't be! Yes, its true! Shanks has just dropped his head down onto the table! Could this be the end? Is it possible that Harry has just won?"

"Oi, Shanks, get back up ya bastard. I haven't even started cheatin' yet, ya know, i-ij-idiot!"

"Harry's trying to provoke a reaction it seems and swings his hand to smack his oppon – oh dear! His hand has gone right through Shanks' head! He's now immaterial and can no longer continue drinking! What does this mean for our contest?"

Harry frowned at the hand that revealed his now immaterial state and blinked a bit in confusion, before blearily turning back to look at Shanks who still had his head on the table.

"Never mind 'bout that. You jus' stay down there, yeah?" He leaned back only to fall through his stool with a curse, not thinking clearly enough to sit on it. In his ghost state, sitting on chairs rather than going through them was a mind-over-matter task that his mind was currently not feeling up to. "So," Harry started, looking up at Spaz and Beckman from his position on the floor. "Who won?"

"Um…I guess that's kinda hard to say, ya know, 'cause technically Shanks conked out first but then you went all ghostly and didn't drink any more so you both are still at the same number of shots and I dunno what people do in these kinda situations since usually the one still conscious wins 'cause he drinks one more glass but you kinda can't and – "

"Harry wins this time," interrupted Beckman. "I'm sure Captain would agree, so I think Harry can consider it his victory. You might want to be careful from now on, though. Captain may decide to have more of these idiotic contests in the future now that he knows how well you hold your liquor."

"Dutifully noted Beckman," Harry nodded solemnly, eyes wide and unfocused. "Do you think the crew would mind if I slept on the floor with them?"

"Well," Beckman replied with a smile, "I would imagine that they'd have to get used to the idea soon enough, anyway. You might as well."

"Brill. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Keep Spaz company for me, will ya?" And with that, Harry laid down and fell asleep.

Spaz looked down at Harry and then looked over to Beckman who was wearing a bemused expression on his face as he walked around the tavern rousing his fellow crew members.

"I'll help!" Between Beckman's authority and Spaz's endless chatter, a good portion of the crew got up blearily in the first half hour, most of them holding their heads suffering from hangovers, staring confusedly at Spaz who was bouncing from table to table, mouth going a mile a minute as he asked Beckman questions like about his favorite weapon, and food, and color, and, and, his favorite fairytale princess?

"Hey," said Spaz brightly as he turned to the bewildered pirates. "Wanna hear a ghost story while Beckman tries to wake up your captain?"

Without waiting for an answer, Spaz jumped from the counter he was perched on to one of the middle tables and before any of the pirates could wonder why their captain was unconscious in the first place, started his tale.

"This is a tale of not so long ago of a merchant ship and its captain and crew who sailed the waters of West Blue, not far from this very island. The captain was a skilled sailor and a good man of friendly features, his black hair always ruffled by the winds and his green eyes sparkled in the sun. For a few years, he and his crew sailed peacefully as merchants, and had easy passing days though not a significant amount of money. One day, a rookie joined, and not long after, the merchant ship fell on hard times. As profits dropped, the captain was forced to cut back on food and water carried aboard as well as each sailor's salary. At first, the crew was understanding, but the new member was discontent and began speculating in the sleeping quarters reasons why the captain was to blame for their sad state. It began with accusations of incompetence in reading the market, and then it progressed to wondering whether or not the captain was stealing money from their profits for his own use and blaming the loss on bad sale rates. As the ship grew poorer and poorer, it wasn't long before even the black color of the captain's hair was a symbol of his evil, and his green eyes a manifestation of his greed. When the captain stopped joining the crew for meals, the rookie cried out that it must be because the captain was eating a luxurious meal alone in his quarters. At this image, the crew's anger boiled over. A mutiny exploded and the captain was captured, then tied up high to the mast of the ship and given no food or water. For days the captain could only ask 'Why?' and shake his head with confusion at the accusations he could barely hear from the members of his former crew. He soon lost the energy to do even that, remaining silent as the sun and rain pounded on him mercilessly, the rest of the men ignoring him as they abandoned their merchant ways to become pirates, captained by the very rookie who revealed just how villainous their former captain was. As pirates, the men pillaged on passing ships that were captained by men who were friendly with the former captain and believed the ship to be safe. Greed and ruthlessness was encouraged by their new captain, and none felt the slightest bit of compassion for the man tied to the mast, only spitting in his face when they passed him to raise or take in the sails. Finally, after three days of only sun and no rain, the former captain broke his silence and pleaded, "Please, some water." The crew laughed. Water? They thought. Oh how the mighty have fallen. To think that just a few weeks ago this man was stealing gold and feasting in secret, only to now beg for water! Cruelly, the pirate captain tied a leather skin filled with water and dangled it just out of reach of the suffering man tied to the mast. It was not long before he died of thirst and hunger. That very evening, a wild storm came and tormented the ship. The pirate captain had never experienced such a thing, being relatively new to the sea and was helpless to direct his crew in escaping the torrential rain, high waves, and lightening strikes. The crew members dashed around, remembering how their former captain, so skilled was he, that he always easily led them to calmer seas. Without his guiding voice, they were disorderly and only managed to hinder each other. A final bolt of lightening struck the mast, and as the ship sank, the last thing the crew saw was the illuminated corpse of the captain they had murdered."

By this point in Spaz's story, all the crew members were wide awake and listening intently.

"Pieces of the ship were found a fortnight later, washed up on the beach of this island, but though the mast was eventually found and the corpses of all the crew members washed onto the shore, the body of the former captain was never discovered. Some say his ghost still haunts the seas to this day and when he meets a pirate crew, he cannot help but remember his suffering, and pleads with bloodshot, green eyes, asking only for a drink of water that he can never touch or drink, for he is no longer among the living."

"Arg," came a groan from behind a table, "anybody got a glass of water?" Harry asked, staggering to his feet, his black hair ruffled and green eyes red from all the drinking he did not long ago.

"Sure," Spaz chirped, bounding over and offering a glass.

"Thanks," Harry said, only for his hand to go straight through the proffered drink. "Damn, guess not, huh?" He glanced up and finally noticed the pirates who were no longer all lying around unconscious.

"Hey, so I see the pirate crew is up, er," Harry cocked his head to the side in confusion. "You guys alright?"

The pirates were all pale to varying degrees, some looking like they wanted nothing more than to back away though clearly too proud to act on such impulses.

"Pff…"

Harry sharply glared at Spaz who was trying but failing to hide his mirth.

"Spaz, why do I have a feeling you're to blame for this?"

"Ghahahahaha, ghaha, aha, ghahahahaha!" Spaz burst into laughter, clutching his side with one hand and supporting himself on a table with the other. "Their faces, ghahaha, are so pale! Ghaha, ahahahaha, to think, ghahaha, that pirates would be so scared by a ghost story!"

"To be fair," Beckman cut in, as Spaz couldn't form long enough sentences yet to explain any more than that, "you did purposely tell a story that Harry ended up playing out."

Harry glared at the both of them. He was woken up early from his nap because he was thirsty, and now not only could he not drink any water because he was still immaterial, Spaz had somehow managed during the time he was asleep make almost every pirate on Shanks' crew afraid of him with a ghost story.

"Someone explain," Harry ground out, "now."

A/N: So there you have it! Still present tense, but I'll be switching back to past tense next chapter unless anyone reviews with a vehement disapproval of the idea. I'll probably rewrite this chapter and the last two in past tense over winter break...

A/N2: Yep, past tense now, finally :)

Again, I would like to point out that I've never drunk before, so please don't use this chapter as a reference for how much you can drink before passing out. Chances are, you'll die first.

What else...

Did you like the ghost story?

96 reviews as of today, November 22, 2010!

And not a single flame, either :)

Thanks everyone!

Edited

12/27/10


	10. Chapter 10: Setting Sail

A/N: Hey guys, sorry it's a bit late! It's that time of year where I just don't feel like putting much effort into anything .

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving! Hopefully with winter break coming in a few weeks, I'll be able to get a little farther ahead in writing this story.

Chapter Ten

Setting Sail

"Dahahaha, that was great, Boy!" Shanks pounded Spaz's back in his humor as he laughs at his crew. After finally waking Shanks, Beckman explained the situation to his confused captain and an angry Harry as the pirate crew shuffled about embarrassed by their reaction. "You men sure were had!"

Harry was sulking at the counter, still immaterial and unable to drink water to quench his alcohol-induced thirst. Thankfully he remembered his teacup that he replaced into his pocket after showing Spaz and Shanks, so at least he had immaterial tea to drink.

"Com'on Harry," Spaz wheedled, "it was just a fun story! You played your part awesome! Wasn't it hilarious that they thought you were a real ghost?"

Harry crossed his arms and stuck his bottom lip out in a parody of a pout that let Spaz know he wasn't really that angry, just a bit irritated. "I don't appreciate being depicted as dead."

"Lighten up, Kid!" Shanks grinned, before turning to the rest of his crew. "Well men, these two here will be joining our crew as tag-a-longs as we go to East Blue. They won't be pirates, but treat them like cabin-boys. They'll run errands and do chores in exchange for some teaching in ship sailing and fighting. Any questions?"

Harry glanced around. Most of the crew looked to be men around 25-40 yrs old, some quite stereotypical looking, but others with rather unique appearances. One man was large and round, wearing small shaded goggles and munching on a rack of meat that he grabbed from a plate the bartender left out on one of the tables, a large grin on his face. Another man was thin and shorter with frizzy hair to his chin, a bandana across his forehead with Yasopp written on it, and a pistol hanging from his waist. The others were less interesting, some bald and some with gelled hair, some bare-chested and some with shirts and long coats, some wearing sandals and others in sneakers and socks, some carrying swords and others with pistols.

Most seemed to accept their captain's announcement casually, some giving Harry a friendly wave and smile, others attempting to look intimidating with a glare, especially one bald man with black circles around his eyes and his teeth bared. It's a pitiful expression, Harry thought to himself as he gave a cheeky smile in return and flippant wave hello. A few looked to be quite upset with Spaz who was still bursting into laughter at random intervals, lying boneless on the floor.

As for any questions asked, well.

"So Captain, why's the kid a ghost?"

Harry scowled. "I am not a ghost! I can just go through solid objects once in a while. Merlin, I'm going to kill you, Spaz!" And with a huff, Harry plopped down in a chair to the feeling of burning fingertips and smacked Shanks on the arm, "and stop laughing Shanks, you weren't even conscious for the event."

"Welcome back Kid."

"Yeah, yeah, someone get me a glass of water now that I can actually touch it."

Spaz got up and sat in the chair next to Harry, sliding over the untouched glass he had offered earlier. Harry chugged it down with a sigh of relief.

"That's better. So Shanks, what now?"

"Now we move! Men, grab your things and head for the ship, we're setting sail! Bartender, sorry to say, but this is our last year here so don't buy too much sake next year, alright? Kid and Boy, you're on cooking duty today so take this," Shanks tossed over a stack of bills, "get your butts to the market, buy what you need for lunch and dinner and get started! Don't worry about food for the rest of the voyage, we've got enough stocked up, but it'd be good to have something fresh while we can. Beckman, grab three men to help you pick up our last order and bring it to the ship. We heave anchor in three hours!"

"Aye-aye, Captain!" came a choir of voices and the tavern emptied as they all prepare for departure.

Cooking duty, huh?

"So Spaz, what do you like to eat?"

"Food is great, I love food, yes sirree, food is yummy. I like all sorts of food, I like bread and rice and noodles and fish and meat and sake and those funny fruits from the island we were on – "

"Not a huge vegetable fan, huh?"

"Ummm, well, vegetables are good for you and they help keep away scurvy and other nasty stuff like that but I like fruits better, 'cause they're better tasting but it's not that I don't like vegetables or anything, I – "

"Spaz, you listed sake as a food before fruit and didn't mention any vegetable of any kind at all," Harry interrupted with a wry smile. "It's fine, just know that I will be cooking some and I do expect you to eat it."

"Yes sirree, Harry, I'll do that, no worries," Spaz agreed while nodding like a bobble-head doll.

Harry was quite excited about cooking. Preparing food for others was a task of many memories and emotions, starting from as early as six years of age when Aunt Petunia began teaching him to make breakfast, through his Hogwarts years when he helped cook at both the Burrow and at Headquarters, during the war when game was roasted with magically baked bread, and finally culminating in a small bakery he started in a small town in France but handed off to an employee after a few months.

Cooking for the Dursleys was a generally unpleasant experience. At first, the prospect was exciting to Harry. For once, Aunt Petunia was paying attention to him, and Harry was hopeful that maybe if he did well, he might earn a bit of love from his normally disdainful relatives. Instead, it merely became another aspect of Harry to insult. Dudley would complain there wasn't enough, Uncle Vernon would either accuse him of trying to poison them by undercooking the eggs and meat or smack him for overcooking the eggs and meat, and Aunt Petunia would generally make biting statements about the roast being too salty, the soup too bland, the cake too heavy and the pudding too light. Up until receiving his Hogwarts letter, mealtimes were times when Harry would try his best to please his relatives and have his hopes of acceptance crushed with every word uttered between greedy mouthfuls.

It wasn't until he shared the kitchen with the surrogate mother he found in Mrs. Weasley that he found appreciation for his skill. Mrs. Weasley seemed at first reluctant to let Harry anywhere near the kitchen, but after sneaking in one midnight after nightmares about Voldemort to bake brownies, she acknowledged his capabilities and accepted his help, though still fussing if she ever felt like he did too much and would shoo him away to play chess with Ron. Those were warm times, and Harry had a lot of fun sharing secret smiles with Mrs. Weasley whenever people praised her cooking, unaware of Harry's participation.

Ironically, cooking during the war was probably the most fun. Evening get-togethers around the fire with piping hot food was the time when everyone relaxed just a bit to enjoy the feeling of warm and full stomachs and each other's company. Often, the main dish other than the magically baked bread and occasional barbeque of what game could be caught would be a large cauldron of stew kept at a constant boil over a small fire. What herbs that could be picked from their surroundings would be thrown in with what leftovers there were from previous days. Spices were easily preserved and carried around, however, so soon it became a game every night to flavor the stew in new yet still edible ways. The nutritional value didn't matter much, since everyone carried several doses of nutrient potions to supplement their diet, but empty stomachs were uncomfortable, and everyone looked forward to those mealtimes, Harry especially as it was during those times that he could reassure himself of the wellbeing of his friends.

Cooking after the war was hard. Opening a small bakery during his travels to France, Harry mostly made pastries, enjoying the smiles of his customers and the challenge of new recipes that distracted him from his memories of dying companions and blood splattered robes. It didn't last long, unfortunately. When he started hallucinating Order members asking for croissants and startling away from raspberry tarts because the red reminded him of blood, he gave the store away to an employee and promptly traveled to China in the hopes that the completely foreign language and lifestyle would drown such thoughts.

Strangely enough, all these memories were about cooking for others. The Dursleys only let him eat leftovers. During Hogwarts and the war, he ate because the food was cooked for everybody. After the war, he baked for customers and only really ate take-out or sandwiches. In the new world, he ate picked fruit and the occasional roasted fish while on the deserted island and inn food here in town. Cooking for a large crowd now would be fun, Harry thought, except –

Harry didn't really understand what pirates eat. Considering their lifestyle, healthy and balanced meals are important. Vegetables are important, right? And fruits rich in vitamin C are necessary to prevent scurvy, though Harry wasn't quite sure what scurvy is, exactly, and he learned something about the dangers of vitamin A deficiency in primary school and how carrots are good for your eyes. Anything else was beyond him. The Dursleys just wanted good-tasting food and a lot of it. Mrs. Weasley always planned the dished for each meal herself. During war it didn't matter since food was for filling stomachs and pleasing tongues while potions substituted for nutritional value. After the war, hah, who expected balanced nutrition from pastries at a bakery?

Well, what the pirates will want to eat is probably similar to what everyone craved for at the war front. Meat. Savory meat, probably a thick stew, and piping hot bread as well. Harry could do that. Maybe cook some roast, as well, and carrots and potatoes can easy be added to both the stew and the roast. Green is a healthy color, right? He'll bake some cabbage loaves like what he bought when he and Spaz first arrived to this town and maybe something else…? Harry watched Spaz bounce around the market, exclaiming over large racks of meat, displays of bread, cartons of produce, and jars of spices. Spices! Of course. Harry recalled seeing in the kitchen of the ship bags of salt and pepper, but also a large and well-used jar of miso. Miso soup was simple enough to make and goes well with a wide variety of ingredients. Harry himself wasn't very fond of the taste, but Shanks' crew seemed to like it if it's clear placement on the kitchen counter was any indication. Maybe instead of the stew, he'd cook some miso pork soup with seaweed and turnip. Merlin, but what about dinner?

Ideas swirling through his head, Harry fanned out the stack of bills Shanks gave him. There was plenty to buy what he planned to make for lunch. For dinner, he'd use whatever leftover beef from the roast along with some cuts of mutton to make curry. Cook that with some rice and maybe make some plain miso soup on the side…

Harry fingered the pocket holding his own wallet. Maybe…

"So Harry, whatcha planning?" Spaz asked.

Harry shook himself out of his thoughts. "Ever cook before, Spaz?"

"I peeled potatoes and carrots before, and I can use a rice cooker! And, and, I baked bread once and I can roast meat and fish over an open fire and boil water too and, um…"

"That works thanks. Do you like pastries?"

"Pastries? Like, cakes and cookies and pies and tarts and, and, stuff like that? I love sugar, yes sirree, sugar is great and so are pastries! Do you know how to make them, Harry?"

"Well, Spaz," Harry said with a smile, "I'll certainly try."

"So, how can I help, huh, Harry? Just tell me what to do I'll do it!"

Harry chuckled a bit over Spaz's enthusiasm as they carried bags and crates of groceries they bought from the market into the ship's kitchen up. It was a bit annoying bringing them up the ladder from the rowboat borrowed the dock. Thankfully Spaz was pretty good at rowing since Harry had no experience there, and hopefully none of the pirates would find themselves stranded without a boat to return to the ship.

Harry thought a bit on Spaz's offer, then, as everything was set down onto the floor and counter, he turned to Spaz and pointed to a sack of potatoes.

"You can wash and peel those for now. Er," Harry sifted through the various utensils in the drawers and found a few knives about the right size for peeling and tossed them to Spaz, "use these. The peels can just go into one of the crates I'll empty in just a sec."

"Oki-doki, Harry, I can do that!" Spaz grabbed the knives from the air and scurried over to the sink to start washing the potatoes. Harry emptied a crate of crate of cabbage for Spaz and searched through the cupboards for pots and pans and other baking tools. He found several pots, the largest of which he'll use for the miso soup, a large pan for the roast, and several square tins for cabbage loaves. They were all rather dusty, and the pan could only hold one roast, which wouldn't be nearly enough to feed everyone. Harry would have to use it twice, unless he could find another pan. He checked the time and frowned. There wasn't enough time to use the same pan twice before lunch in just two or three hours and he couldn't see any more pans. Harry placed his hand over his thigh where his wand was concealed. Why not?

_Geminio_, Harry thought firmly in his mind as he discretely waved his wand over the pan out of sight from Spaz and smiled when a copy of the pan appeared stacked on top of the original. The pan would last about six hours which was more than enough time to cook and serve the second roast he and Spaz bought.

Satisfied, Harry started the oven, checked on Spaz's work with the potatoes, and began to prepare the beef. In the background, he could hear the early returnees being directed by Shanks to prepare the ship for sailing. Just a few more hours, Harry thought to himself as he bustled about the kitchen, and we'll set sail.

A/N: So, I'm sorry so much of the chapter was just Harry cooking... I actually don't cook - I think I just like the idea of Harry knowing how, so it might still turn up in future chapters, but hopefully its a phase I'll get over, yeah? Haha.

It's past tense now. And the story broke 100 reviews, squee!

117 reviews as of today, November 30, 2010

Thanks!


	11. Chapter 11: Pastry Magician

A/N: Hi again everyone! Words cannot express how unmotivated I am right now... It's really started to pass pathetic levels.

Well, I still have this chapter to offer, though there's not much action. Next week should be much better. Wish me luck on my finals in the meantime!

Chapter Eleven

Pastry Magician

The sea was calm, the ship rolled gently on the waves. Shanks was leaning casually on the steering wheel, watching his crew work on deck. Raising anchor went without a hitch, he thought, smiling fondly at the white sails tightly contoured with the steady wind carrying them towards Reverse Mountain. The bustle had faded, most men taking the time relax on deck, though Beckman was likely still directing a few down in the hold to properly pack away the cargo they picked up.

Speaking of things picked up. Shanks turned to look back towards the kitchen area. Not a word was heard since the Kid asked if any of the crew members had food allergies. Perhaps it was foolish to assign the two on cooking duty without even knowing if they could cook, but, his crew could eat just about anything. They had to, since they didn't actually have a cook onboard! It would be interesting to see how it turns out.

Inside the kitchen, the hustle and bustle never stopped. Harry prepared the roasts quickly enough and added some of the potatoes Spaz finished with to the pans before shutting them into the oven, but then there was dough to make, which was mostly experimental since he never heard of cabbage bread before coming to this new world. Then while waiting for the dough to rise, Spaz was given turnips and seaweed to clean and cut while Harry worked with the pork he bought for the miso soup. Then as he let the soup boil, he cut the risen dough to place in the square tins to be put into the oven. Harry spared a moment for another Thank Merlin that there were two ovens, before he put the bread in and checked on the roast.

"Well," Harry finally said. "That's it for lunch."

"Yeah?" Spaz replied, slumping down onto the floor. "Geez, Harry, who knew cooking was so much work? I mean, I've peeled potatoes before and that was fine and all, but really, I've never made dough before and that was kinda fun and really cool how it grew Harry! Yes sirree, but I can't wait 'til we can eat and when is it going to be ready 'cause I'm starving and – "

"It will be done in about a half hour, Spaz," Harry interrupted. "In the meantime, how about you help me make dessert?"

"Dessert?" Spaz perked up. "You mean, like those pastries you were talking about? I like dessert! And pastries! Pastries for dessert!"

Harry chuckled. "Yep, pastries for dessert. How about some pie? I bought a bushel of apples we can work with."

"Apple pie, wow Harry, that's awesome, I love pie, pie is yummy, yes sirree, can I help? What do I do, huh, huh?"

"Well," Harry pushed out from a corner the bushel of apples he was talking about. "Rinse and peel the apples for me, yeah? Er," Harry thought a bit. Spaz was new to the cooking and likely had no experience peeling anything but potatoes. If so, he'd likely peel the apples thickly, and the thick skin which would make good jam. "Leave the skins in the sink, I'll make jam with it. Put the peeled apples in that other pots we found for now." Then, leaving Spaz at it, Harry hunted through the dustier cabinets for anything that remotely resembled a pie tin. Nothing. He stuck his head out the door and saw Shanks standing leisurely at the wheel.

"Oi, Shanks, this stuff in the kitchen all the cooking tools you got?"

Shanks turns around and laughs.

"Sure is, Kid! You didn't blow them up, did ya?"

Harry scowled. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Lunch in half an hour, alright?"

No pie tins. Time to ask himself if he should be a Gryffindor and just conjure some. This world had no magic, so he wanted to not do anything too conspicuous. Duplicating an already existing pan was one thing, especially since the pirates were unlikely to remember if they owned one or two of them; conjuring new equipment that might not even be the same between worlds was another, but honestly, everyone on the crew already knew he had a strange ability to turn into a ghost, and both Shanks and Beckman knew he could turn invisible. So far, no one questioned it, and really, who would believe him to actually be a wizard? Harry grinned and turned to Spaz.

"Don't freak," and before Spaz could respond, Harry drew his wand from its hiding place on his thigh and, concentrating on the contours of the pie tins he worked with those months on France, conjured about a dozen that clattered to the floor from the air they appeared in.

"Keep peeling," Harry prompted, after taking a good look at Spaz's gaping mouth. With a squeak, Spaz returned to the apples and Harry gathered the tins from the floor. They were pretty good quality, Harry thought, likely because he had a clear idea of what he wanted. Usually conjuring from a wordless spell was much harder for Harry.

Setting the tins on the counter, Harry started on the dough for the pie crust. With only half an hour, the pies would have to bake during lunch and hopefully be ready to serve by the end of the meal. Decision made, Harry grinned to himself. Pies were great and all - maybe he should experiment with those fruits he still had from the tropical island to see if any would be good in pie. Who was he kidding; just about any fruit was good in pie! – but he was prepared to shock the hell out of those pirates come suppertime with some fancy dough work and a touch of magic. Harry started whistling, looking forward to the results.

Shanks walked into the dining room where he was greeted by the sight of two pot roasts, glistening in their pans, lined with baked potatoes, sitting on the large table used for group meals. From the side door that separated the room from the kitchen, Harry pushed his way through, carrying a large pot and balancing a tall stack of bowls on top of it.

"Hey Shanks, sorry if we're running a bit late – wanna carve the roasts?" Harry gestured with his chin at the large chunks of meat as he placed the pot down and the bowls beside it. Deftly ladling bowls of pork miso soup, and before receiving a response, he called out in a loud voice,

"Hey Spaz! Bring out that stack of plates and the carving knife for Shanks!"

Spaz hurried in, plates forming towers on both hands, looking for all the world like an acrobat performing a balancing act, a carving knife grasped between his teeth.

"Thanks Boy," Shanks said, taking the knife from Spaz and pulling the plates next to the closer pot roast so he could start serving.

"Anything else Harry?" Spaz asked.

"Yes," Harry replied as he set down the last bowl of soup. "Help set the places. For each chair, place a bowl of soup and a plate of meat once Shanks is done in front of it. Don't forget to pull up two extra chairs for us before that though – I think Beckman said you could find spares in the upper storage room."

"Got it! I'll go fetch'em now, Harry, be right back!"

Harry nodded absentmindedly and went back into the kitchen to check on the bread, leaving behind a mildly bemused pirate to finish serving the roasts.

When the pirates finally filed in, lured by the scent of roast and freshly baked bread, several couldn't help but gape a few seconds at the spread before them. Shanks had finished carving the roasts, but the pans were still filled with baked potatoes for the pirates to help themselves to, and there were several baskets piled high with slices of cabbage bread. In front of each chair were a plate of roast and a bowl of miso pork soup, along with a fork, knife, soup spoon, and cloth napkin. If the food variety wasn't impressive enough, the set up certainly was. With no steady cook, most pirates did what they could to make a large amount of food edible and put it on the table for everyone to fight over.

Each pirate eagerly took a seat, and when they saw Shanks had already gotten started, dug into the food with gusto, snatching potatoes and bread at intervals, teasing each other as they tried to steal meat from the plates of their neighbors. Shanks had waved Harry over to sit next to him, and Spaz sat next to Harry, fending off fork attacks from the pirate on his other side.

"Pretty impressive Kid! Were the two of you ever cooks before?"

"I never was," Spaz injected, before biting down on a slice and bread and continuing to talk around the mouthful. "Harry did most of the cooking, yes sirree, I just peeled and washed stuff and watched him work and he's really good, Harry is, isn't he? I think the food tastes great and it was really cool to see how he mixed stuff up!"

Harry smiled in thanks for Spaz's praise before turning to Shanks to answer the question.

"I'm not a chef or anything, I know next to nothing about nutrition and only some basic recipes, but I've been cooking for people on and off since I was six, so dishes like a roast or soups and stews are simple enough."

"Well, if it's really that simple for you, I might as well keep you on cooking duty permanently!"

"If that's one of the chores you want to assign me, I don't mind. I enjoy working in the kitchen."

A bell rang in the distance.

"Ah, dessert. I'll be fetching that now."

Harry left the table to remove the apple pies from the oven, and because the door swung close behind him, he missed the pair of eyes that glared at his back from the table.

Lunch finished quickly. The pirates cleaned the pie tins of their contents at a speed rivaled only by their exit when Shanks asked who would wash the dishes. Harry merely chuckled and cleared the table himself, Spaz following his example as the two balanced stacks of bowls, plates, utensils, cloth napkins, and the pans and tins to the sink for washing and drying.

When Spaz placed the final plate back into the cupboard, he turned back to Harry.

"So? What now, Harry, hm? Should we start dinner, or is it still early, cause if we finish too early, then the food might get cold, but if we start too late we might not finish in time or we might not have enough time after making dinner to make dessert! You are making dessert for after dinner, right? 'Cause that apple pie was delicious and I think everyone really liked it and I loved it and you make great pastries and stuff and it'd be awesome if you could make something for tonight too – "

"Yes, Spaz, I will be making something for dessert tonight, and no, we won't be starting dinner right away. You're right; it's too early for that. Do you like curry?"

"Yes sirree, Harry, I love curry! And rice! Curry and rice is really yummy, and what are making for dessert?"

"Haha, a bit stuck on that, aren't you? Hmm, well, I probably won't be using all the carrots we bought for the curry, so I guess I'll make carrot cake. For now, though, there's apple jam to be made, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

When the jam was done boiling, Harry set Spaz to filling the various empty jars that could be found in the corners of the spice cabinet, probably originally containing spices that ran out and were never thrown away. Harry, instead, went out to look for Shanks. Perhaps there was something else needed to be done, otherwise, Harry wanted to know exactly how the sparring matches were to be organized.

"Hey, Shanks!"

Shanks was leaning against the netting of the middle mast, just above the lower crow's nest, his straw hat laid over his face. If it weren't for the fact that his body was mostly vertical, Harry would almost suspect the man was taking a nap there. Then again, this was Shanks, and Harry was quickly getting used to the idea that the pirate captain was a little strange and ridiculously carefree. At Harry's holler, though, he lifted the hat and gazed down.

"Yeah Kid?" A series of jumps down the netting had Shanks on the deck in front of Harry with a cheeky grin. "Ya called?"

"Well, you didn't have to come down, though it was rather impressive you show off. I just was wondering how the sparring matches are going to work, like when and where and with who, stuff like that."

Shanks, whose grin widened even further at Harry's accusation of him being a show-off, didn't hesitate one second before replying,

"How about a spar now? You have time before making dinner, right?"

And before Harry could agree or refuse, Shanks turned back towards the deck where his crew was scattered, doing various activities and chores.

"Oi! Men! Who'd like to give the kid a little work out before he sticks himself back into the kitchen the rest of this fine afternoon?"

Shanks barely finished the last word when a voice came from the door leading down to the cargo holds.

"I'll take the brat on, Captain."

A bald man with black circles around his eyes emerged onto the deck and quickly drew two pistols from his hips, twirling them on his fingers.

"A fight with this upstart was exactly what I was hoping for."

A/N: Yes, next week will be better... :D

Again, sorry about the cooking... It might last another few chapters, haha .

Thanks to my beta, as usual, and all of my readers as well! If not for your presence guilting me, I might never have lasted more than eight chapters.

134 reviews as of Dec 6, 2010!

Wh00t!

I'm so screwed for history class on Tuesday .


	12. Chapter 12: Guns, Knives, Wands

A/N: Yet another week has come and gone... and I made little to no progress in writing this story . So while there are no guarantees about the promptness of future updates, there is still this one to be enjoyed! At least my Bio final is over and done with.

I hope the fight scene is okay - it's a bit short and no magic, sorry.

Chapter Twelve

Guns, Knives, Wands

Looking across the deck at his opponent, Harry was wary of the man's yet unknown abilities, but mostly confused about his behavior. Though he was a poor glarer, there was no denying the resentment and contempt in his eyes and posture. It was a bit strange, since Harry didn't believe he'd been around long enough with the crew, or even in this world, to have already created enemies when all he'd been doing with himself was training and, recently, cooking.

But there was little time for wondering about it, anymore. The man was looking anxious to start, if the twirling pistols were any indication, and his skill with them certainly wasn't for show if the whispering amongst their growing audience was any indication.

"Think he'll do it?"

"Against the kid? Seems a bit like overkill, don't you think?"

"I want to see it though! It's always entertaining to watch his bullets fly."

"Yeah, he does shoot fast and unpredictably. It's pretty impossible trying to dodge."

"I hope the kid doesn't try to just hide behind stuff – I'd hate to have to clean the deck after the fight."

"So you think the kid will have to just try to shoot him first?"

"Does he even have a gun?"

Unfortunately, no, thought Harry, though at this point, a gun would probably do more harm than good since he didn't even know how to use one. Fingering his wand, Harry muttered under his breath the conjuration spell for blades and discretely hid a few dozen throwing knives in his clothes. He decided not to use his sword since the battle was looking to be one of long distance.

The pistols stopped twirling, and instinctively, Harry threw his body towards the floor in a low crouch as two bullets soared above his head where his left arm and right leg where just a second before.

Just fan-bloody-tastic, Harry thought. It figured that bullets moved faster through the air than most spells.

The air was soon filled with flying bullets as Harry sidestepped them all. It wasn't impossible. Much like spells from wands, bullets left the pistols in a straight line, and the target could be predicted from the angle of the barrel. After so many years dueling, it was reflex to move his body out of the way of the predicted line of fire with a simple side step or twist, although the fact that there were two weapons certainly kept him busy. Very few wizards ever tried to use two wands, and though some Death Eaters attempted it as a way of advancing themselves to a higher status in Voldemort's forces, they weren't very skilled in spellwork, and Harry could often depend on a Protego shield to block the more common hexes and jinxes.

In a way, Harry was unusually prepared for a fight with a gun user, even as a wizard. Most wizards either learned specific shields for specific spells like Protego for stunners and summoned or conjured physical shields for certain spells like the killing curse, rather than try to dodge every spell that came their way. Harry, though he knew many spells, didn't see the point of memorizing so many spells when he proved naturally gifted with dodging reflexes. Not to mention his main opponent was a wizard with so much more experience with magic that trying to even find all the different shields to spells he might find thrown his way was an impractical use of his time, let alone learn to cast and use them appropriately.

With a few close calls, Harry managed to dodge all the bullets and his opponent was forced to reload his pistols. Taking advantage of the small window of reprieve from lethal projectiles to throw a few of his own, Harry slides a set of four throwing knives into his right hand and takes aim. He didn't want to damage the ship if the pirate dodged and he also didn't want to seriously injure the pirate. He'd have to avoid the vitals, but try for places that would hinder further attacks. Harry crouched down and threw the knives from a low angle, one at a time, aiming for the hands and shoulders.

The pirate swore when he realized what Harry just did and dropped into a roll on the deck. One knife sliced a thin cut across the back of his left hand, and another ended up slicing through the tip of an ear due to the panicked dodge. The rest of the knives soared harmlessly over the railing to drop into the sea.

Enraged by the situation, the pirate lifted his reloaded pistols and started firing again. This time, it was more serious. It wasn't until now that Harry realized the pirate had been thinking very much like he did when aiming, shooting mostly to incapacitate and to avoid hitting the ship. Once Harry had proven that wasn't going to work, the pirate began shooting towards his center of gravity, forcing Harry to move his entire body as he jumped, twisted, or just plain ran to dodge them all. In fact, he concentrated so much on just surviving that he barely registered the fact that the pirate was advancing closer and had no time to comprehend the significance of such movement until, out of bullets yet again, the pirate bludgeoned Harry across his left temple with the butt of a pistol.

Harry collapsed, and he didn't need to try and stand again to know he would fail. His vision was swimming, his limbs were numb, and he could feel the beginnings of nausea rising up – the match was over.

Shanks declared the pirate victorious, and the audience scattered. After reassuring Shanks that he'd recover on his own, Harry laid on the deck for another hour, trying to use his magic to heal the head injury. A hit across the temple was serious, even for wizards, and he was thankful that Shanks apparently didn't see the blow clearly enough to recognize the danger, else he'd probably have been dragged to wherever the crew used as an infirmary with whoever acted as the ship's doctor to be fussed over and forced to deal with the injury healing naturally. Left on his own like this, an hour and a few wordless Episkeys was enough for Harry to return to the kitchen where a worried Spaz was waiting. Apparently he had finished jarring the jam in time to see the fight.

"Harry! Are you alright? Are you injured? Did you get hit by any bullets? Are you bleeding? Do you need any ice for your head? Do you need to lie down? Should I – "

"Spaz, I'm fine," Harry assured him, slowly sinking into a chair, "though I would like some ice, yes."

"Right, ice, I can do that!" and in a flash, Spaz grabbed some ice from the freezer and wrapped it up in a clean dishcloth with a rubber band that had been used to hold together the chopsticks in the back of the silverware drawer.

"Thanks," Harry accepted the ice pack gratefully and placed it against his temple. "So, shall we start on dinner? How about you wash and peel the carrots while I prepare the mutton?"

Spaz seemed a bit reluctant let Harry get up, but was sufficiently distracted when Harry used a sticking charm to keep the ice pack on his temple to he could use both hands. Once that was finished, Harry fetched the onions he placed in the refrigerator when cleaning up after lunch for Spaz to peel and chop as he prepared the spices. Curry was a specialty of Harry's, especially after all those nights experimenting with spices for the stew prepared each night during the war. The entire cupboard's worth of spices were cleared out and arranged on the counter, some he lightly toasted whole as prep and others were ground into the pot later after cooking the meat, carrots, and onions. He managed to find some garlic cloves hanging from the ceiling and mounds of butter he didn't find before when making the pie crust tightly wrapped and packed away in one of the drawers in the refrigerator that he proceeded to work into his spontaneously created recipe.

As the curry simmered, Spaz was pointed towards the rice cooker and Harry started on dessert. He decided against anything too delicate and time consuming for today, and besides, carrot cake was a convenient dessert to make while working with curry because it required a selection of spices and, of course, carrots. There was, unfortunately, no grater, and Harry wasn't confident enough to conjure something that required so much detail, so he sliced the remaining carrots as finely as he could with a knife and got started on mixing the dry ingredients, most of which were close at hand after baking bread and pies for lunch.

Something to think on, Harry wondered to himself after he conjured some cake pans, distributed the batter, and placed them into the preheated oven, was whether or not he should bother with frosting. Spaz would probably love some, but was it wise to be serving so much sugar? If he was going to be cooking all the meals for the ship from now on, Harry was going to need to know more about how food affects a person's health than the few vague ideas he currently had. Maybe the ship had some books about it on board, or perhaps some members of the crew understood more about it. He'd ask Beckman about it later. For now, Harry would take advantage of the availability of fresh cream to make some frosting for decorating the cakes when they were baked and cooled. It was his first day at sea, after all, and Harry decided that licking the excess icing from the bowl would be perfect way to cheer up from his rather pathetic defeat in his first spar.

At dinner, Shanks was his usual boisterous self, laughing at how his crew dug into the curry and rice with relish while Spaz bounced on Harry's other side, alternating between enthusiastically eating, chattering about Harry's cooking skills, and shooting Harry concerned glances when he thought his friend wasn't looking. Harry did his best to act normal, but couldn't help noticing this time around that when he entered the kitchen to fetch the frosted carrot cakes, the man he faced in the spar earlier that day was glaring just as the door closed behind him. It was worrying that in such a short amount of time, he could create such a grudge without any idea why. Other than that spar, the only time he could remember ever interacting with the man at all was his cheeky dismissal of his sad intimidation attempt at the tavern, and that just didn't seem worth so much hostility. Perhaps he was just a petty man, but that was just as disturbing. Having anyone so easily influenced in a group that works as a team to accomplish their goals was dangerous, life-threatening even considering the activities of pirates.

There was little he could do about it though. Harry could keep an eye on him, sure, which wouldn't be hard since the man seemed quite focused on Harry as a target anyway, but Shanks was the captain of the crew – Harry was pretty much an outsider. If it became a serious concern, Harry would be obligated to report it to Shanks, but for now, Harry would just be a little more cautious around the man while onboard the ship.

Instead, after dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Spaz and Harry wandered around the ship. Spaz seemed quite comfortable with how the ship was structured, and when Harry accepted his challenge to race up the netting of the middle mast to the upper crow's nest, Spaz easily scampered up, pausing every once in awhile to tease Harry for his slow advance against gravity. Harry was once again forced to rest in the lower crows nest, lying down on the platform to gaze at the stars as Spaz swung around on the netting.

He traced a few constellations with his eyes, smiling at the Sagittarius that briefly reminded him of Firenze. What a strange constellation to see in the winter! Back home, his Astronomy class could only point it out at the very beginning of the school year or at the very end because it was a summer constellation.

Except, back home, he was in the northern hemisphere and now he's in the south. Does this mean that the stars in this world are the same as in his old world? Amazing! He'd read stories before in primary school about how ships used to navigate using the starts – maybe it was the same here? In that case, wouldn't it be fun, to learn how to navigate a ship using knowledge he learned from Astronomy classes at Hogwarts? A grin split widely across Harry's face as Hermione's voice flooded his mind in a stream of excitement while Ron's voice proclaimed how wicked it would be to learn how to sail a pirate ship.

Pushing himself upright, Harry rode on top of his elation and chased Spaz to the top of the mast. The frizzy haired man with the bandana that said Yassop was there, apparently on lookout duty.

"Hey there you two! Done cleaning up after dinner?"

"Yes sirree, we finished," Spaz replied, swinging himself over the railing onto the platform from the netting. "So Harry and I raced up here but Harry's really slow so I won and it was fun! The mast is really tall and you can see for ages from here!"

"Ha, that's true! This here's probably the best place to be for a view of the great blue and our fine ship. By the way, my name's Yassop," offered the pirate, holding his hand out to Spaz first since Harry was busy hoisting himself up into the crows nest.

"I'm Spaz, nice to meet you, I like your name, why's it on your bandana? Did someone make it for you? I like your hair, it's cool, mine just spikes all over and Harry's is just really messy like the wind likes messing with it. What do you normally do as a pirate? Have you ever been in a fight or – "

"Spaz," Harry cut in as it didn't seem like the questions, or the pumping of Yassop's hand up and down, was going to stop anytime soon, "give the man some time to answer and stop shaking his hand so much before you take it off." He turned towards Yassop with a smile and said, "I'm Harry, if you didn't pick that out from Spaz's ramblings. Sorry if he's a bit overenthusiastic at times."

"Nah, not a problem. I've got a son, much younger, but I hope he'll be just as energetic as Spaz when he grows up."

"Oh?" Harry asked, "Where is your son?"

"Back home, of course! Boy's barely seven years old. He and my wife live in Syrup Village on Gecko Island, a quiet place in East Blue. I'm hoping we can swing by for a visit since we're heading to that ocean anyway. Ah, I miss him."

"Why did you leave?" Spaz asked, now clinging to the tip of the mast that protruded from the center of the crow's nest.

"Because the pirate flag called out to me, of course! My wife's a good woman, told me to go after my dreams, set an example for my son. And I want my son to be proud of me, as a great sniper, the sniper of the Red-Haired pirates!"

"So you're a sniper? Cool! Can you shoot something? Show us, show us, please!"

"Hahaha, sorry, but I'm the lookout right now, and it's no good to waste bullets at sea. Some other time, maybe. When we land somewhere, I'll shoot an ant for you, how about that?"

Spaz looked disappointed, but finally said that he would hold Yassop to that agreement, and started his way down. Harry waved good-bye to the pirate before following Spaz down the netting. The two of them didn't stay up much longer after that and soon were led to their sleeping hammocks by Beckman. Harry put up his usual wards but added an alarm. It wouldn't do to be late for making breakfast.

A/N: So, Harry lost, sorry. Honestly, the point of the spars is for Harry to learn about Muggle fighting and what to expect from this new world, so he won't be using magic for awhile, and certainly not openly until he decides how people might react. He's being a little looser about it around Spaz because their both "outsiders" on the ship and thus likely won't be causing too big of a commotion about it.

So, I've gotten a few reviews from people I couldn't reply to with emails by now, and I thought maybe I should answer some of their questions:

lau - Thanks for your review on chapter 4! I'm glad you like the story :)

Listenshadow - Thanks for your input on tense preference - I'm also glad you like Spaz :)

kuro - Sobering charms and transfiguration, huh? While I do like those ideas, it didn't come to that, though I'm sure with the headache he woke up to, Harry probably wished he did, haha.

Missingnin0x0 - I'm honestly highly entertained by the possibility of using future tense at some point. Or sixth person point of view, haha. It might not show up any time soon, but I'd love to try it out sometime.

luffy1411 - Spaz's past will eventually come out, and I do plan on Harry and Spaz training each other at some point, but not yet. Harry still has a lot he can learn from the pirates and Spaz hasn't any reason to come clean about his origins yet.

YoTuesday - When the excitement of the story picks up is also when the story gets really hard to write, haha :) There may have to be a time skip somewhere down the line, since I doubt I'll have the stamina to right ten years worth of story until Luffy sets out on his adventure. I agree the wand has a lot of potential for future conflicts, but nothing's set yet. As for the pairing, it is tentatively set at HarryxRobin, but I have no experience with romance, so I'm a bit nervous about it.

If I forgot anyone, I'm sorry! Please let me know :)

Thank you RedValentino, for being my patient beta.

Thank you all my readers for your support.

I have 153 reviews today as of today, December 13, 2010!

Honestly, I think I'll force myself to keep writing just because I get such a rush with each review, haha.


	13. Chapter 13: Anticipation

A/N: Hello everyone! To my regulars, my apologies for the extended wait. Last week just wasn't going to happen, sorry. On the bright side, I'm once more on track and can guarantee weekly updates for at least a month :) Not much happens in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Thirteen

Anticipation

Harry awoke to the phoenix trill of his alarm before dawn and climbed out of his hammock. Looking down at his wrinkled clothes, Harry cast a freshening charm he saw Mrs. Weasley use once and made a mental note to go shopping for some spare clothes – sewing was one household skill Aunt Petunia never tried to make him learn, probably afraid of his freakish blood bleeding onto her clothes.

Looking slightly more presentable, Harry reached up to the hammock above him to shake Spaz awake. Spaz, after a bit of muttering about how the sun was not yet up, climbed out to join Harry in walking to the kitchen.

Harry was somewhat relieved to notice Spaz took to being woken up rather peacefully. The boy was strong, and no doubt trained, but had probably never been in a serious war situation where being woken up was reason to attack. As for Harry, the trill of a phoenix was just about the only thing that could wake him without triggering his old battle instincts, so he used it as an alarm, and also tied it to the wards he erected before sleeping, so if anyone tried to wake him up, the trill would alert and calm him when he or she crossed the border.

Of course, if the wards detected hostile intent or a spell, Harry heard a sudden clang of bells instead.

Breakfast would be a much simpler affair than lunch and dinner yesterday. Harry taught Spaz a simple bread dough recipe and while waiting for it to rise, the two went down to the storage hold to take a look at what kind of food was available for cooking. There was a rather tall pyramid of crates filled with nothing but biscuits, and half the hold was filled with barrels. Upon closer inspection, the barrels contained smoked meat, pickled vegetables, citrus fruits like limes and oranges, and beer. In the remaining corner were sacks of flour, rice, and double-sealed sacks of salt and sugar. In the middle of the room were cartons of potatoes, cabbage, apples, and some other produce that didn't spoil too easily but would still need to be processed sometime this week, as well as tubs of cooking oil.

Harry grabbed a barrel of smoked bacon and Spaz took hold of a carton of potatoes, and the two headed back to the kitchen. Upon their arrival, they saw Beckman was waiting for them.

"Hey Beckman, how are you today?" Harry asked, rolling the barrel of bacon against the stove.

"Just thought I'd stop by and tell you where all the other food is stored, but it seems you found the place just fine by yourself," Beckman replied around the cigarette between his teeth. "I'm sure you noticed some of the food down there isn't going to last long. Usually we just try to eat it all in the first week because no one wants to spend the extra time figuring out how to store it, but seeing as you're probably on permanent cooking duty now, you can do what you like with it and maybe figure out some way of making it last longer."

"That we can," Harry said, "right Spaz?"

"We made apple jam yesterday! I bet we could do that to the rest of the apples, yeah? And, and, we can make lots and lots of cabbage bread like yesterday and bread should last longer than cabbage, yes sirree, we can do all sorts of things and Harry'll teach me lots about cooking."

Beckman chuckled. "That's good. Have you seen the meat room, yet?"

Harry was puzzled by this. "Well, we found barrels of smoked meat in the storage hold – is that what you mean?"

"With what these pirates eat, that meat alone won't last them long. Come on, I'll show you the other room."

The two followed Beckman back down into the storage hold and the pirate points out a door behind the pyramid of biscuit crates.

"In here," Beckman explains, opening the door and pulling a string that turned on a light bulb, "is where we keep livestock and our larger refrigerator."

Harry and Spaz gazed around in amazement. Pigs were sleeping in hay piles, dairy cows were standing in stalls, and chickens where sitting in their roosts. The smell was pretty awful, but the sheer concept of keeping live animals at the bottom of a ship was astounding to Harry who had never been on a ship, and Spaz who had never experienced a long voyage.

"Likely," Beckman continued, "now that you two are the cooks, the other men are going to leave anything that relates to food as your chores. You'll have to come down daily to milk the cows and collect eggs, both of which can be stored in the refrigerator over there," Beckman pointed to the large refrigerator in the back corner, then pointed over to another door behind the sleeping pigs. "That's where the feed is stored and you'll have to make sure you keep the animals fed, as well. At least every week, try to clean up a bit, which will get easier once we've eaten a few of the pigs. Any questions?"

Harry was utterly lost, having never tried a hand at farming. Spaz, however, was enthusiastically bouncing next to him.

"No sirree, I know what to do, I lived on a farm before, I did, so I can do this easy-peesy, count on me!"

"Well," Harry sighed in relief, "that's good, 'cause I haven't a clue."

"Heh," Beckman grinned, "you two make a fine pair, then, don't you?"

'A fine pair' huh? Harry thought to himself, carrying a few cartons of eggs and a fresh pail of milk, Spaz following closely with even more cartons of eggs. Beckman had left after his comment to wake up Shanks who would no doubt enjoy waking up the rest of his crew in the most obnoxious way possible.

Often, I feel ridiculously older than him though, Harry thought, glancing at Spaz's dramatic balancing act with the egg cartons, but I don't think that's normal behavior for a boy who looks about sixteen or seventeen. I wonder if he acts younger on purpose, Harry mused, but set the thought aside when they arrived back at the kitchen for the third time that morning.

"Alright, bread in the oven, Spaz, then we'll make bacon and eggs for everyone,"

"Yes sir, Harry sir!"

The bread was quickly taken care of, and Harry set Spaz once more on potato duty. The bacon sizzled in the pan, releasing fat that Harry used to fry up alternating pans of potato cubes. When the barrel was emptied and bacon and home fries towered on platters, Harry started on the eggs. Unfortunately, Harry had no clue how anyone liked their eggs. However, since sunny-side ups were awkward to stack and poached would take too much time, lightly seasoned scrambled eggs fried in leftover bacon fat and vegetable oil soon filled several large serving bowls. The finished bread loaves were sliced and served on the table with apple jam.

Pirates stumbled into the dining room as Harry and Spaz finished setting the table. The crew's entrance was certainly more amusing for breakfast than for the two meals yesterday. Some were awake, others half asleep; some were chipper, others looking murderous. All in all, the atmosphere was a bit chaotic, though all of them seemed very interested in the food on the table. Shanks came in grinning, ignoring the glares from one particular group of pirates sitting in a corner, dripping wet, and plopped himself down at the head of the table.

"Smells good! Is that apple jam I see? Great! Hand me a jar, will you Boy?"

Spaz tossed a jar of jam to Shanks, and all the pirates dug into breakfast, grabbing strips of bacon and spooning egg and potato onto their plates.

"Well crew," Shanks announced as the slices of the last loaf of bread were spread with apple jam and eaten, "we're almost at the gate. Everyone should know how it works by now, yeah?"

Harry coughed.

"You two," Beckman directed at Harry before Shanks could say anything, "will be joining the Captain up front. Yassap will close up the animals so they don't go flying around. I don't know how much experience you have with strange phenomenon like Reverse Mountain, and I'd rather not lose anyone this early in our voyage because everyone else is too busy to notice you flying off the end of the ship."

Harry might have imagined that slight emphasis on the word 'busy,' but he didn't think so. Beckman was likely one of the few who noticed the strange tension between Harry and the one crewman who probably wouldn't care if Harry fell overboard. Hell, he might even wave goodbye.

"Wow, fall off the back end? I've heard stories about Reverse Mountain from people who've been there, yes sirree I have, though I've never seen it before. Is it really like an upside-down waterfall like a geyser only cooler 'cause it never stops and there's actually a mountain and, and, how high is it really 'cause this one guy came back from it once and told me he touched a cloud up there but I think he was joking but its really hard to tell with him 'cause – Ow! Mm-mmf-mm!"

Harry smacked Spaz upside the head and stuffed a slice of bread he grabbed and spread with apple jam once Spaz started talking into the boy's mouth.

"Calm down Spaz, you'll see for yourself once we get there, won't we? I think it'll be much more wicked to see it live than make images in our head based on stories from other people."

Spaz pouted a bit, but was soon eating the bread with relish, adding more jam between bites.

There was another incident after breakfast. As Harry and Spaz cleared the table, the man with black circled eyes was the last to leave, and as he got up from his seat, he bumped his shoulder against Harry's arm, causing Harry to drop a jar of jam which broke and spilled onto the floor.

"Well then, errand boy, looks like you'll be on cleaning duty today as well, right?"

"I suppose so," Harry replied, with a scornful look, because really, what was this man's problem? He turned away to Spaz.

"Do you suppose we could feed to spilled jam to the pigs down below?"

"Um," Spaz glanced a bit worriedly between the two men before replying, "I guess, I mean, pigs can eat just about anything we eat, though feeding them too much sugar isn't good. It might be a problem if we accidently leave some glass pieces in it though, so it'd be best to leave it."

"That's fine, I'll take care of the glass, and it's only half a jar full of jam. Go see if you can find some rags, mops, and buckets. We might as well give the whole floor a good scrub."

Spaz looked a bit wary about leaving Harry alone with the pirate, but it wasn't an issue for long as the man left with a final glare.

"Reparo," Harry softly incanted, fixing the jar and effectively removing all the glass from the jam still left on the floor, then scooping up the spilled jam into a bowl and setting it aside for Spaz to add to the rest of the leftovers that would end up as pig feed. Spaz came back soon after with rags, a pair of mops, and two buckets filled with water.

"Um, Harry," Spaz asked, as the two stacked the chairs into a corner and shoved the table to one side, "do you know why he doesn't seem to like you very much?"

"Afraid not, Spaz. It's actually very strange. At first, I just put it down to him being one of those really petty people who get mad over some small thing like when I wasn't intimidated by his glare back at the island, but I haven't seen him get mad at anyone else yet, and someone like that probably wouldn't make a very good pirate anyway. Then I thought maybe he just didn't like the idea of outsiders being welcomed by his captain who aren't even pirates, but what happened just now pretty much proved that wrong."

Spaz looked up from the bucket he was soaking his mop in. "Why is that?"

"Well," Harry smacked his mop onto the ground and began to scrub a bit in order to loosen to food bits and dirt caked between the planks. "For one thing, he seems pretty focused on me in particular."

"Oh," Spaz thought about that a bit as he too began mopping the floor, "but, well, it could just be that you were the one he had a fight with yesterday, right?"

"That's true, but the fight is the main reason I think there's something more to his attitude. I mean, usually, when you think someone is intruding on your territory or is bothering you, you feel pretty good about yourself after winning some sort of fight with the person, right? And usually, the winner acts all superior and smug when talking to the loser."

Harry knew this from plenty of experience with Dudley, Draco, and Voldemort. Dudley always made time to give Harry a smug little smile the day after a successful Harry Hunt. Draco certainly made plenty of smug little statements when he though he got one over Harry, like after the Remembrall incident in first year, and Merlin knows Voldemort had a long monologue about his superiority after his plan in fourth year brought Harry to the graveyard by portkey.

"I get it," Spaz chirped, "that guy didn't seem at all satisfied when he beat you, and he didn't even taunt you about losing or how you clearly didn't belong here if you couldn't even hold your own in a fight against a single pirate."

"Right," Harry gave a suspicious glance at Spaz. That example of what wasn't said was rather specific. "Although he did emphasize my place as errand boy on the ship, he still seemed like he was wary of me as a threat, rather than all self-assured that he could win against me if it ever comes to that."

"Yeah, like he's afraid you've got some other trick up your sleeve, or, or, were faking your loss and stuff like that, wow, he's weird, yes sirree, but I'll watch your back, Harry, you can count on me!"

"Haha, thanks Spaz, that's good to know," Harry grinned, glad that Spaz had cheered up a bit. He was a bit subdued when he first asked about the issue, but knowing what was wrong and deciding to help seemed to have brightened him up considerably.

The possibilities Spaz brought up worried Harry. It was true that in a life or death situation, Harry might have been able to win that fight. If he could catch the pirate off guard, then a quick disarming spell would have relieved the man of his pistols. Otherwise, if the blood Harry managed to draw yesterday was any indication of the pirate's dodging skills, even if he failed the disarming spell, he could dodge and apparate until the man needed to reload, than shoot off a series of stunners, without worrying about hitting the man's vitals. If he managed to get two spells to clip the man like his throwing knives did, the fight would've been over.

But, his opponent couldn't have known that. The pirate had never seen Harry fight before and really had no need to be suspicious about Harry hiding his capabilities. It wasn't the Devil Fruit, because he had to have seen that Harry couldn't pick up anything in his ghost state and thus couldn't attack, and Harry had never done any other magic in the presence of anyone but the disillusionment spell in front of Shanks and Beckman, and some conjuring, sticking, and apparating with Spaz, except –

Shit, Harry thought to himself. The healing! The audience clearly didn't realize Harry was hit across the temple and would've needed medical help, but it was naïve of him to believe the deliverer of the injury wouldn't know where he was aiming and that he hit his target. Now the man was probably suspicious about how Harry was able to recover so quickly.

That's just fan-bloody-tastic, Harry thought to himself with a sigh. Well, nothing he could do about it now. Perhaps later he could play it off for something that would make sense in this world. Were there other humanoid species in this world? Or strange powers that weren't magic but could still do abnormal things like heal injuries really fast? Spaz once mentioned something about high-tech weaponry, right?

Harry was still a little worried about what the man might try next, but decided to wait and see. Hopefully, as long as Shanks still seemed happy with the two, the pirate wouldn't dare to do anything too dramatic and risk his captain's wrath.

Spaz and Harry finished cleaning up and was just putting the chairs and table back into place when Beckman swung by.

"We're almost there, so finish up and move your butts up to where the captain is and try to stay put."

"Awesome! Neh, neh, did you hear that, Harry, didja, didja? We're almost there! We're gonna see water go up a mountain and ride it up too and then Whoosh! we're gonna be back in the Grand Line except Shanks said we were just passing through, yeah? What do you think he meant by that, Harry, cause if we're going to East Blue like that then we'll have to pass through the Calm Belt and I don't think that's possible, no sirree, we might get see a sea king though and that'd be kinda cool but scary too and…"

Harry nodded indulgently as he placed the final chair at the head of the table. He wasn't quite as excitable as Spaz, but Harry was definitely looking forward to this strange mountain. Ships sailing over a mountain by riding a stream of upward-flowing water? Not even the wizarding world back home could claim home to such a wonder!

A/N: And there you have it. Next time we'll finally go over Reverse Mountain, meet some familiar people, the works :) As for that pirate bugging Harry, we'll get to understand him better in a couple chapters more.

So, answers for reviewers without accounts:

Jade: Yes, haha, he could do a LOT with the ship if he knew some nice spells. However, there are some limits to Harry's knowledge of spells - that was always more of Hermione's thing after all. Unbreakable, fireproof, and cooling charms I can see him knowing, but until he's willing to paint a huge target on himself as the possessor of such an amazing power as magic, he probably won't be using them on Shanks' ship. I can't imagine him ever having learned ammo charms though maybe he can do some discrete duplicating charms every once in a while on the stored ammo. Space charms he might know, I'll have to think on it a bit. Flying spells I'm quite sure Harry would've made sure to learn at some point so he could make his own broom, but again, flying ships are kinda conspicuous. Anti-pest wards I can't see Harry knowing, nor anti-rust and rot charms, though I'm sure he can conjure wind to push the ship in emergencies. Stealth charms aren't canon, but a silencio could help. As for bad weather, I doubt Harry has the knowledge to create that either. I love your ideas, but I'm afraid a lot of them will have to wait until Harry can handle being infamous again. Thanks so much for the long review though! :)

Frytrix: Thanks for the review. I'm glad everyone likes how I'm making Harry grow stronger during the course of the story. I hope you continue to enjoy the story :)

That's all this time. Thank you everyone for supporting my story!

174 reviews as of today, December 29, 2010!


	14. Chapter 14: Up, Over, and Away

A/N: Yay, hi everyone! How were your holidays? Finally we see Reverse Mountain!

So, um, I was reading a webcomic and found out that in the UK, "spastic" and ""spaz" are derogatory terms o.0 I'm sorry! I'm American, for those who don't know... I'm not going to change Spaz's name, though, so I hope no one's too offended. I don't mean to imply he's retarded or disabled in any way either, nor does Harry think that way, so please don't read too much into it.

While I'm at it, I would also like to inform everyone that I'm plan on only using manga events in my story. That means all those filler adventures in the anime? Not going to happen, though I may use some of them for inspiration. I know some of the adventures in the anime are pretty awesome, but it screws around with the timeline (everything from Luffy's start until the time skip supposedly fits in a single year), opens up a few plot holes (Zoro cutting steel before he understands how), and mostly I'm just too lazy to write about all of them. Harry obviously comes from an AU world, but I'll try my best to keep to the first five books at least.

Chapter Fourteen

Up, Over, and Away

"Hey there, you two! 'Bout time you joined me up here. In a few moments we'll be heading into a storm, but keep your eyes peeled! The first sight of the Grand Line is a memory all pirates hold for the rest of their lives."

"All pirates?" Spaz asked, bouncing in place, head twisting around in search of the storm and the magic mountain.

"Well," Harry cut in, absentmindedly, "seeing as most pirates who attempt to ride over the mountain die off rather quickly, the rest of their lives is usually just a few days, maybe a week or two on the Grand Line, max."

Spaz stopped bouncing and stared at Harry with wide eyes.

"Er, I guess that was a bit morbid, huh?"

"Dahahaha, the kid's got a point though! You two shouldn't worry too much though, me and my crew are old hands at this business, and I can guarantee that after this, life at sea will be the only life for you."

"Why Shanks, are you still trying to corrupt Spaz and me into declaring ourselves pirates and joining your crew?"

"No need! The gorgeous ocean herself can do that well enough."

A sudden gust of wind blew off Shanks' straw hat, but a hand was already raised to catch and replace it on his head.

"Looks like we're here. Grab hold of the railing or something, wontcha?"

The rain certainly came down hard. Everyone on deck was clamoring around, doing something Harry couldn't quite make out, while Shanks stood at the head of the ship crowing like a rooster and Spaz and Harry clung to the railing. With all the water flying around, Harry was extremely glad for his anti-water pulse and tried to distract himself from the wild rocking of the ship by concentrating on shrinking the distance between the deflected water and his skin.

Perhaps it was because he was focusing on magic, perhaps it was just the reflexes of being a wizard, or maybe, just maybe, he still had a bit of his saving-people-thing, but when he turned towards the back of the ship and saw the situation, Harry snapped his wand into his hand and muttered a quick "Accio."

A pirate had slipped after a particularly nasty jolt when the ship scraped by a large rock and nearly flew over the railing. The man with black circled eyes was working with him on steadying the sails and had reached out to grab him, but was about to miss by mere inches. Harry performed a summoning charm on the flying pirate's shirt, just enough to pull a corner of cloth sufficiently close for the other pirate to grab hold of and pull the man back on board.

Harry had the presence of mind to slip his wand back up his sleeve before anyone saw him posing strangely with a stick, but damage was done. If he had just left it alone, the pirate would have been held back anyway by the rope attached to the mast that every pirate tied onto their waists in preparation for Reverse Mountain, though with a few more bruises from hitting the side of the boat upon reaching the end of the line. Now, he had once more performed magic, and those black circled eyes staring at Harry weren't about to dismiss the event as a lucky catch.

"Harry HarryHarry HarryHarry HarryHarry Harry – Look! Look! I see it Harry, look!"

The tension broke as Harry looked away towards where Spaz was pointing to and the pirate went back to working with the sails. All thoughts of anything besides the ship's current destination flew out of his head as he looked upon the shadow looming overhead.

"Do you see it, do you, huh, huh? Wow! It's, it's – !"

Just what "it" was, Harry never found out, as at that moment, straight ahead, was a, gate? The currents were pulling the ship towards it, and as it neared, the rapidly flowing water drowned out the sound of Spaz's voice. Harry could see several archways in a row, rising up along the mountain, Reverse Mountain, with a rushing stream of water leading upwards through it into fog. What was particularly fascinating was the design on the archways – just who made them and placed them here? But there was little time to ponder this, as with a rush, the ship flew through the archways, gaining speed as they climbed the mountain on the gushing water, until at the very peak, the ship practically floated in midair for an exhilarating second. With a whoop from everyone on board, the ship splashed back onto the water, this time flowing downward.

"Do you see him, Yassop?" Shanks called up towards the tallest lookout point.

"I think so Captain! Our best route would be to turn starboard."

"You heard him men," Shanks called back from his place at the bow, "turn her starboard!"

With a great heave from the men at the rudder, the ship slowly moved towards the right. Harry was quite confused – who was this him? But as the ship sailed downwards faster and faster, Harry could swear he saw a great black mountain sitting at the bottom of the mountain, slightly to the left of their current course. No, wait, was that an eye? And, teeth!

It was close, but the ship of the Red-Haired Pirates managed the slip through the passage between the walls of the mountain and the large sea creature.

"BO!"

"Hey there, Laboon! How are you and Dr. Crocus doing?"

"BO!"

"Dahahahaha, good, good!"

At this point, the whale – for Harry could now see that the sea creature was indeed some strange, toothed whale, was floating horizontally, revealing horrible scars on his head, and, a, door? The metal gate suddenly opened, and a man climbed out, wearing a hat and a hairstyle like a flower. Harry was beginning to wonder if this was how Alice felt when she fell into Wonderland, which worried him, because he certainly didn't remember eating any strange, hallucinogenic mushrooms.

"Shanks, that you? You crazy boy, passing through every year, not even being decent enough to come around properly, always flying from the mountain and leaving through the Calm Belts."

"Dahaha, true enough. I'm enjoying the four Blues with my crew, Dr. Crocus."

"You say that every year but what do you end up doing each time? Diving through Fishman Island and crossing the Calm Belt to drink West Blue sake."

"It is my homeland, Doctor, and besides, this time we're going to East Blue."

"Ah, going to visit Roger, eh?"

"At least pass by – doubt I'd be able to actually step foot on the island. I was hoping to taste the sake there, Doctor, I know Roger loved it."

"Doctor this, Doctor that, pah, I'm no pirate doctor anymore, Shanks, being a pirate at all was really just those three years on the Grand Line with Roger. I'm nothing but a lighthouse keeper now."

"Don't be ridiculous, Doctor. You've got more medical knowledge than anyone I know. You're taking care of Laboon here, aren't you? How are the installments going?"

"Pretty much done down there," Crocus reached down into the gate and pulled out an empty bucket of sky blue paint. "Just decorating now. The crazy whale wants a sky painted on his stomach; I'm going along with it mostly since it keeps his mind off other things."

"I see."

There was a sad quiet between Shanks and Crocus for a moment.

"BO!"

"I'm wondering too, Laboon. So Shanks, looks like you've got some rookie pirates I haven't seen before yet, mind introducing us?"

"Sure, Doctor. Hey, Kid, Boy, come up and meet Doctor Crocus."

Harry and Spaz untied themselves from the railing and walked towards the head of the ship towards Crocus, who jumped off the whale onto the ship next to Shanks.

"This is Potter Harry and Spaz. They aren't pirates, but are kinda tagging along with the crew and me. The kid here is decent cook."

"Wow!" Spaz spoke up, shaking Crocus' hand. "You're head looks like a flower, did you do it on purpose because of your name? I'm Spaz, your whale is neat and really, really big! Laboon is funny name and that whale makes a funny noise. I've never seen a whale that huge before, and those are some nasty scars he's got on his head – is that why you're his doctor? What did Shanks mean by installments and are you really painting his stomach to look like the sky and stuff? I like your beard, how long did it take to grow it, how old are you anyway?"

"Shouldn't you give your own age first before asking for someone else's?"

"Ah, right, I said my name was Spaz but I never said anything else, did I? I'm sixtee- "

"I'm 61 years old, Pisces sign, AB blood type. Laboon is a whale from West Blue, the sea you just left. It doesn't quite look like the sky down there yet, I still have to paint clouds."

"Whoa, maybe you could paint some seagulls too! That'd be so cool! Are you going to paint a sun, too? What time of the day will it be? Sunrise is a great time of day but then the sky is kinda pinkish and not blue so that wouldn't work very well."

"Shanks," Harry asked, as Spaz and Crocus seemed to be quite caught up with each others, "will Doctor Crocus be joining us for lunch?"

"He should, yeah Doctor?" Shanks interrupted, "join us for lunch, eh?"

"I suppose I could."

"Any requests or food preferences?"

"Actually, I just caught a rather large fish this morning. I don't suppose you can work with it?"

"Well, I know a few seafood recipes."

"How about dessert?" Spaz asked.

"Dessert?" Crocus questioned, "well, I've always been rather partial to tarts. I remember once on Roger's ship we had some tarts at a restaurant with some strange fruits that only grow on tropical Summer Islands in the Grand Line."

"Huh, was that where we were, Spaz?"

"Um, I guess?"

"Great, I'll have a go at that, then. How long are we staying here, Shanks?"

"We'll leave after dinner – don't bother cooking for that, we'll have a night barbeque on land."

"Great, then Spaz," Harry started, but caught the eye of the pirate who refused to leave him alone and winced. It might be best to provide an opportunity to speak with him alone. "Spaz, you can play with the whale, if it's ok with Doctor Crocus, maybe help him with the painting, yeah?"

"Wow, can I, Doctor Crocus, can I, can I?"

Crocus led Harry and Spaz on top of the whale's body to the lighthouse, as the pirates tidied up the ship from the rough trip over Reverse Mountain and lowered anchor. He showed Harry the fish he mentioned earlier, then picked up some more cans of paint with Spaz and returned to his whale.

The fish was huge! Harry had to cheat a bit with a featherweight charm just to get it onto the rowboat Crocus let him use to return to the ship. Back in the kitchen, Harry covered the dining table with old newspapers and laid the fish out on top. It easily covered over half the table which regularly seated nearly thirty pirates. With a sharpened kitchen knife, Harry sliced open the stomach to start cleaning it out.

The flesh was soft and pinkish and reminded Harry of salmon. As he cleaned out the guts and set aside the liver – fish liver was edible, right? he thought back to the war days. Hermione had this neat spell that she used on the game and vegetables to test if they were edible raw or cooked or at all; how did it go?

"Essumir," Harry chanted, drawing a circle in the air above the fish. The flesh and skin glowed a deep green color, the liver and bones a pale yellow, and the guts a tinge of orange.

This spell, if Harry remembered correctly, worked on a scale of colors. Red meant not edible, yellow meaning only if cooked, and green being fine to eat raw. Since the flesh was green, Harry tore off a strip of flesh and tasted it. Surprisingly, it even tasted a bit like salmon; very similar to the raw salmon Harry ate at a sushi restaurant before.

Thank Merlin, Harry thought to himself, since salmon fillet was one fish recipe he actually knew. He didn't have much time though. Harry turned the oven on then threw a quick Colloportus at the door – he'd cheat a bit. A quick aguamenti rinsed out the fish of blood, a scourgify cleaned away the dirty water and guts, and a refreshed featherweight charm made it easier to lift the flesh off the bones.

It was a bit hard chopping the head off, but the skin stripped off easily enough, and the meat cut well, so it wasn't long before Harry was baking the fish fillets on a bed of lemon and herbs, basted with oil.

Half the fish was more than enough to feed the crew along with plenty of rice and pickled vegetables. The rest of the fish he left of the table to deal with later. Maybe he could store it in the fridge in the meat room?

Harry filled and turned the rice cooker on, then pondered over the liver. As it came from such a large fish, the liver was quite big, but still didn't seem worth preparing for such a large group. Maybe he should just make it into pate and give it to Crocus to take home – it was his fish after all.

Harry sliced the liver and sautéed it, then mashed it with some butter, lemon juice, and spices, before scooping it into an empty jam jar from breakfast for Crocus.

Now for dessert. Harry reached into the pockets of his robes and pulled out some of the fruit he preserved before leaving the island. Concentrating, he conjured a dozen large tart pans and got started. He just gathered all the ingredients he needed to make the crust when he heard a knock at the door. Harry froze for moment.

Walking over to the door, Harry muttered an alohomora and opened the door. On the other side was the pirate he was expecting. Time to see just how deep in trouble he was.

A/N: And next week we'll see just why the pirate really doesn't like Harry.

I've realized that Harry's Devil Fruit power hasn't shown up in awhile. Does anyone have any guesses yet as to the details behind his fruit?

Jade: Imagine my shock when I looked up spells from Harry Potter, and found that the Notice-Me-Not charm is actual not canon! It's in practically every fanfiction battle, but it doesn't actually exist, such a let down. Sigh. Of course, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. If a simple charm could make people ignore you, students would use it to wander the halls, Harry would use it to live in relative anonymity, so on and so forth. There are , however, spells and wards that can hide a location from detection, so if Harry could figure out how to use them on moving locations like ships, that would be awesome. Meh, I've got ten years to work with. Maybe I'll give Harry a ship of his own to play with for a year or two, yeah? Thanks for the review :)

Thanks goes to my beta, RedValentino!

Does anyone know why when I try to make Spaz say Harry's name over and over again without spaces it gets automatically deleted?

184 reviews as of today, January 4, 2011 (- it's a new year!)


	15. Chapter 15: Contemplating the Errand Boy

A/N: Hello again :) Sorry it's a bit late; please enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen

Contemplating the Errand Boy

Attending the Snow Festival of a little town in West Blue is a fun little tradition three years strong for the Red-Haired Pirates. Naturally, being pirates wanted by the World Government, this meant it wouldn't be a tradition for much longer. All of us wanted to make the most of it, but none more so than the captain. Perhaps it isn't so surprising after all that he chose to pick up some souvenirs before leaving.

When I heard the captain introduce the two boys as joining our crew but not as pirates, I was not happy. Who did they think they were, just hitching a ride with us? Was the title of pirate too beneath them or something? The younger one seemed ridiculously immature, laughing his head off like that after his stupid story. The older one was just cheeky and looked kinda prissy in his girlish outfit. It was a bit like a cross between a dress and a bath robe.

Happy or not, though, obeying one's captain was a part of being a pirate, so I decided not to make too big a deal of it. I almost felt sorry when the captain assigned them cooking duty. Usually the first cooking duty was my job since I was the only one in the crew who could cook anything remotely resembling the meals we spoiled ourselves with on land.

The day didn't get much better. For some reason, we were short a rowboat, so I had to squeeze in with Lucky Roo in order to get back to the ship. Lucky Roo's a great guy and personally, I wouldn't mind having him nearby in a fight, but he's not the best person to share a rowboat with. I nearly fell overboard several times.

Lunch that day was irritating. Captain thought the older errand boy did a pretty good job cooking and decided he should have permanent cooking duty. Permanent cooking duty! He practically promoted the kid to the status of ship's chef, far too prestigious for a prissy cabin boy, and it seemed everyone else was too busy stuffing their faces to notice the additional pan on the table.

Well, perhaps that isn't too surprising. No one but I ever used the pan when cooking, but I remembered clearly that there was only one pan like it in the kitchen, so where did the other one come from? So maybe I was being paranoid, I mean, it's just a pan, yeah? But it was strange because the island we were just on didn't sell large pans for roast; I didn't like it.

Pft, if I didn't like that, can you imagine how I felt about the dozen pie tins he brought out for dessert?

When the captain asked for a volunteer to spar with the older boy, I was all for it. I'd show that guy with his fancy cooking skills and swishy clothes that there was more to being on a pirate crew than making pies. Those skinny limbs certainly didn't have much strength in them, and he was dressed like he'd never been in a fight in his life. Clearly he'd never been part of a street fight where such loose clothing could be grabbed or pinned down with a well-placed knife.

He certainly seemed arrogant. There I was, twirling my pistols, and he just stood there, not even drawing any weapons. I started off first, using my infamous double-pistol technique. With two pistols shooting, it was near impossible to dodge, though Captain finds it child's play with his Haki. I aimed mostly for his arms and legs, trying to avoid hitting his vitals. I didn't want to seriously injure the kid, just teach him a lesson, rough him up a little, show him the dangers of joining such a big-time pirate crew and being all flippant about it.

He dodged them all. I couldn't believe it. He seemed to see where every bullet was going and stepped out of the path of each one. It was almost as if he could use the Color of Observation, except he was definitely concentrating with his eyes to keep track of my pistols.

I actually had to reload bullets, and the little fucker threw knives at me! He had throwing knives hidden up his sleeves and actually drew first blood.

So I got a bit mad. This man was dangerous, and the entire time, he played us as some sort of girly cook who wanted to learn how to sail a ship and fight. Ha! No one knows how to dodge my double-pistols and not know how to fight – who did he think he was fooling? I started shooting for real, and he still managed to dodge them all, but this time I moved in. He seemed to have a harder time dealing with all the shots this time, and when I ran out of bullets, I dropped him. For all those great reflexes dodging bullets, he sure didn't do much when he saw my punch coming other than widen his eyes.

I felt better after the fight. It was a little irritating when the boy said he'd be fine after Captain asked if he was alright, but I figured maybe he'd never experienced a temple hit before. Soon enough, he'd realize how serious it was and learn his place.

I felt a little guilty about it after awhile. Looking back, it seemed a bit silly how worked up I got in the fight. He didn't even try to block me when I bashed his head in with the butt of my pistol. Maybe he really doesn't know how to fight, I thought, and his dodging skill was from some sport, or just naturally good reflexes. Crazy good reflexes, but sometimes people are just born gifted that way. I went back to the deck after an hour to help him to the infirmary just in time to see him get up and walk into the kitchen.

Now I was suspicious. My double-pistol technique was something I developed as a pirate, but I lived most of my life as a street-fighter, and if I remembered hitting someone hard on the temple, god-damnit but he'd be down for at least a day.

Just who was this man? First he managed to ingratiate himself with the captain enough to be invited on board the ship without actually joining the crew. Then, when cooking, he somehow manages to find an extra pan and a dozen pie tins to cook in that I've never seen before. Finally, in a fight, he shows unnaturally good reflexes and impossible recovery skills without the use of Haki. Not to mention incomplete control over an unknown power to turn into some sort of ghost-like thing, probably a Devil Fruit.

Forget his pretentious take-over of the kitchen, this guy was dangerous.

I watched the guy carefully at dinner. I was not happy when he brought in the dessert. Again, with the unexplained appearance of cooking utensils that certainly didn't exist in the ship's kitchen.

This next morning, I thought it'd be best to remind him of his place as the ship's errand boy. He didn't seem the least bit fazed and essentially ignored me. That worried me more. I beat him in a fight, hit him hard enough to knock out experienced fighters for at least a day, and he didn't even seem to register me as a threat – just what ace was he hiding up his sleeve? Just what could possibly explain him?

There wasn't much time to think more on it. Captain announced our close proximity with Reverse Mountain, and everyone was to prepare the ship. We all got into position, tied ourselves tight to the ship in case of accidents, and got to work. I was partnered with a good friend of mine on the sail of the stern mast.

"Jealous?"

Make that formerly-good-friend-of-mine now soon to be creamed-into-the-deck-planks-crewmate-of-mine.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come off it, man! Ever since the cap'in made the older newbie chef of the ship, you been glaring at him like no tomo'ah."

"He's not chef, Al" I retort, "just an errand boy on cooking duty. And I'm not glaring at him for a stupid reason like that. Haven't you noticed how strange he is?"

"Oh, yeah, how strange it is that he can actually cook food better than the rest of the crew. I'm telling you, man, that ain't much special. We jus' suck."

"Not that. Ever since he started cooking, pans and tins have been appearing out of nowhere! Our kitchen has never stocked a dessert pan since my first turn at cooking duty, and all of a sudden he's making cakes and pies. I'm telling you, there's something off with that man."

"You're freaking out over a coupla pie tins? C'mon, man! Maybe you jus' never noticed them before, or maybe he brought'em with him. He seems like he's made stuff like that before, it can't be that hard to believe he'd carry some supplies around with'im."

"And how do you suppose he carried all that stuff onto the shi – that bastard!"

"Whoa, there, don't just let go of the sail! What's your problem now?"

"Don't you get it? He's the one that took the missing rowboat and stuck me with Lucky Roo!"

"Well, I suppose it was a bit rude, but he had to get on board somehow, and geez man, we're pirates! Not 'zactly the paragons of politeness, we ain't."

"Tch."

We shut up after that, because at that point we entered the storm and had to concentrate on keeping the sails steady and prevent too much damage.

I kept thinking about it. Petty issues aside, I felt uncomfortable with his presence. _He wasn't a pirate_. Who's to say one day, he wouldn't just slip something into our food and hand us all over to the marines? Maybe he wouldn't even try with the food – what if healing quickly and dodging bullets was just part of a wider spectrum of abilities, abilities that could kill us in our sleep?

I remember the slip crystal clear. When it was happening, things were moving quickly; the wind, the rain, Alvin's body being lifted up, all of it seemed to happen at once before I could even react.

When I recall it, I see it all in slow motion. The rain collects in a puddle at our feet. A sudden gust of wind blows. Al steps forward for better balance but he slips in the puddle and as his foot rises, the wind grabs a hold of his clothes and tosses him over the back railing. I turn around, lunge forward, reach my hand out, knowing but refusing to acknowledge the fact that I am too late, that I wouldn't reach in time, that I am stretched out completely but still my fingers do not touch the corner of his jacket.

Then suddenly, as if tugged by an invisible hand, that corner is pulled straight into my hands, and time returns to normal. I drag my friend back onto deck and we both tumble to the ground. I turn back and see _him_, his face wide-eyed and panicked in an expression I knew well from seeing it on small-time marine soldiers when in the shadow of the Red-Haired Pirates' flag.

For all our arguments, and his lazy attitude, and his irritating acorn hat, Alvin was important to me. As a crew, the Red-Haired Pirates looked out for one another, but my friend and I joined the crew at the same time and kept a special eye out for each other. I could've lost him.

Losing someone was something everyone knew could happen at any time. Being a pirate was a dangerous way of life, and so the high risk of losing someone you've slept and ate and worked with for years to a storm or battle was something every pirate had to accept, but it didn't make it any easier to see that someone almost get lost overboard.

Maybe he would've survived anyway. Lazy though he usually is, he did at least tie a lifeline and I probably could've pulled him up that way.

Probably.

Could've.

It was equally likely that that man saved Al's life.

And damned if I'm not grateful for that.

So as I'm trying to open the door into the kitchen – finding it locked even though there is no lock! – I've got tons of questions to ask the man inside.

Most of all, I wish I knew, what do you say to someone like that?

A/N: I hope this chapter cleared some things up. Next chapter we'll see just what happens between the two of them alone in the kitchen (get you heads out of the gutter :p).

Hmm, I don't think I have anything I need to share this time... but I do have an assignment for my readers :) Apparently there is something like a notice-me-not charm in the Harry Potter books, or some similar enchantment on an amulet? I can't find any mention of it in any of the Harry Potter information sites. Please someone direct me to where I might find it! Anything that might be related to the subject would be welcome, whether it be a spell, an enchanted object, or the existence of something that moves and is warded in that way. I've gotten a suggestion that the Hogwarts Express might be an example, but I'm not sure if it's the train that's warded, or just the tracks. Maybe the Knight Bus? That probably won't affect my story in any way though, since it's highly unlikely Harry knows any of the spells or wards that go towards making the Knight Bus.

Thanks again to my beta, RedValentino, and to all my readers who encourage me to keep writing :)

It's January 12, 2011, and I've reached the 200 review mark! SQUEE


	16. Chapter 16: Tentative Truce

A/N: Late again! I'm sorry T-T

The usual fanfic excuses - laptop died, using a borrowed laptop, beta has sporadic internet access, only eleven hours of sleep in the past two and a half days, bouts of insanity and what-not.

This chapter is not betaed. Betaed chapter will be posted when available.

Chapter Sixteen

Tentative Truce

"Does this door have a lock?" the pirate asked, as he stepped in and closed the door behind him, looking down at the knob and seeing nothing there to account for him being unable to open the door just then.

Harry winced.

"Er, no, I," Harry mentally scrambled about for an explanation, "I used a pin." Harry knew it was possible from watching the twins pick locks, but he wasn't very good at it himself, so hopefully he wouldn't be asked to demonstrate.

"Right."

The two stood there awkwardly, Harry waiting for the pirate to start, whether with pointed questions or accusations, and the pirate trying desperately to decide how he was supposed to treat someone who he disliked – because he was a risk to the crew! – but had probably just saved his friend's life.

"Right," Harry echoed, then went back to the counter to start making tart crusts. He could handle being interrogated and cooking at the same time.

The silence stretched on, and Harry was just working on the tart filling, having already put the tart crusts into the fridge to chill and started to preheat the second oven, when the pirate finally spoke up.

"Who knows?"

Harry stilled. About magic? Harry thought to himself, no one. But seeing as that was admitting he could do a lot more than even the pirate currently knew or believed, he chose to keep that thought to himself. No doubt the man already suspected there was more to his ability than he was letting on, but there was no need to remind anyone of it.

"Shanks and Beckman have seen it. Otherwise, just Spaz, me, you, and probably that other pirate from earlier."

The man snorted.

"Him? The guy's a lazy idiot, probably already forgot all about it in favor of sneaking a nap."

Harry didn't reply and started boiling a few jars of apple jelly to use as glaze. He would have to start working with the apples in storage as the jam supply was dwindling after the heavy use today.

The silence continued, and finally Harry was feeling a bit impatient. The tart filling was in the fridge to cool, the crusts he put into the oven, and the glaze was simmering on the stove. He wasn't going to just stand around waiting while this pirate tries to decide what to do about him!

"Is it really that important?"

"Under normal circumstances, no," the pirate conceded. "We don't have any Devil Fruit users in our crew, but I don't think we'd care if one joined. And the captain is pretty good at Haki and is trying to train some of us to use it too, though most of us are only at the point of being able to sense killing intent. They're all pretty dangerous abilities."

He stopped talking and watched Harry cook for a bit. Fruit all the colors of the rainbow covered the kitchen counter.

"You're different. Usually, people join us after a demonstration of their abilities. You didn't do that, so both you and your friend are unknowns."

"Everyone has secrets, aces in their sleeves," Harry offered, segmenting a neon yellow-green fruit.

"Sure, and we all know that, but –. We're all pirates; we follow a certain way of life, chose which side of the law to respect, pledged ourselves to the Jolly Roger."

"And you're afraid that since I'm not a pirate, I'd have no compunctions against betraying you to the marines, or killing a few of you for your bounties," Harry concluded as he coated the tart crusts with glaze. "If it helps, Shanks could kill me anytime."

"Of course the Captain could! What do you mean, comparing yourself to him, huh?" A quick look backwards showed the pirate fuming at the implication that there was any doubt his Captain couldn't defeat a kid who was neither pirate nor marine.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best thing to say, but at least it reminded the man of his loyalty to a powerful man who couldn't be threatened by Harry's unexplained tricks, and maybe it would force him to accept the outsider's presence, even if only to show his trust in his captain.

"We all know the Captain is strong, one of the strongest, and he could be the Pirate King if he wanted, and we'd all take him there. Just, sometimes, he isn't as serious as he should be."

Ah. Harry could understand that. Shanks was the kind of person who could win just about any head-on duel, but always seemed incredibly vulnerable to assassination. Harry doubted it would ever happen – if Shanks could survive this long as one of the Four Emperors, he likely had a highly polished natural talent in seeing the intentions of people around him in addition to his Haki. If the marines hadn't managed to assassinate him yet, it was doubtful Shanks let just anyone on board his ship.

But life wasn't that easy; especially when looking up at someone you admire and worry for him. Sometimes, you just wanted to hex the guy for being too trusting, like Dumbledore when he insisted Snape was trustworthy over and over without ever giving a proper reason for it.

Harry had worried. Despite Dumbledore's façade of invincibility, despite how he managed to survive just fine for so many years, through so many wars, trusting the people he chose to trust, Harry had worried.

Like this pirate worried now.

Harry sighed and filled the crusts with the pastry cream from the fridge.

"I'm afraid I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Harry told the pirate, arranging the fruit slices and berries in concentric circles on the first tart.

"You could tell me what you are."

Harry chuckled a bit as he cut another fruit, purple with small, bright red seeds that formed triangles in the middle of each slice.

"I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that question."

"Then your power?"

"Hmm," Harry intoned, "well, one is the power to turn immaterial, as you saw in the bar back on the island, but I'm sure you figured out then that I also have very little control over it."

"And your quick recovery after our fight? The tins and pans from nowhere? And pulling a man from tens of meters away?"

Harry didn't reply right away. He was surprised the man noticed the things he had conjured since none of the pirates reacted strangely at all when he brought them out, but he supposed it was rather foolish of him to assume that none of them took inventory of the kitchen supplies. How could he salvage this situation, or at least downplay what he was capable of?

"The pie tins and such I brought with me."

"You packed kitchen equipment and yet neither you nor your friend has a change of clothing?" came the skeptical reply.

"Well, I certainly don't know what my friend chose to bring or not bring. As for me, I lost most of my things in a small fire," Harry fibbed. "I left the campfire burning one night and the wind blew it a little farther than I expected. My kitchen equipment survived, but my wardrobe was mostly ruined. That's why I was staying at an inn on the island."

"Fine, and the other events?"

Harry silently breathed a sigh of relief at the pirate's acceptance of his explanation so far. Creating objects from thin air was a power he definitely did not want everyone to know. It defied every bit of logic and science there was to create something from nothing and if the wrong person found out, the consequences would be disastrous.

Harry sliced another fruit, this time red with purple seeds that zigzagged along the edges, trying to buy a bit of time.

"That Haki you talked about earlier, Shanks once mentioned it. He didn't do a very good job of explaining it, but from what I can tell, it's an energy, strengthened by a human's ambition and honed to do different jobs. How close am I?"

"Close enough. There are three types of Haki: the Color of Observation, the Color of Armaments, and the Color of the Conquering King. The last one, though, only certain people are born with, including the captain."

"I see, neat. So Shanks can use them all, and I know Beckman is training in the second one."

"Beckman's practically a genius at the Color of Armaments, and we're all training in the first one. It's required that the crew members can all at least feel killing intent, whether we use Haki or just instinct. Yassop can shoot people releasing killing intent a hundred meters away with his eyes closed."

The pirate narrowed his eyes, as if daring Harry to even try going up the first mate, or to tempt the sniper by revealing killing intent, before continuing.

"What does this have to do with anything? Your skull certainly didn't feel any harder than most skulls, so you didn't use the Color of Armaments to block and quickly recover from my attack."

"No, I don't know Haki, unfortunately. I do however, have an energy that I can manipulate similar to how Shanks manipulates his Haki. Mine does different things though."

Harry paused a bit, trying to word it properly.

"My control is limited, but I can speed up the healing process if necessary, and push or pull at objects from a distance. Nothing too large. What happened earlier was me pulling out the guy's shirt. Luckily, it stretched out far enough for you to reach because the weight of a human body is too much for me."

Harry stopped there, choosing not to say more than he needed to. Instead, he played around with the fruit and their funny seed designs as he finished decorating the remaining tarts.

"I don't like you," the pirate concluded. "You do strange things like dodge bullets but not punches and even dress weirdly, but the captain invited you, so I can't exactly kick you off or anything. Just know I'm watching you, so don't think you can get away with any funny business."

"Yes, yes, I understand." Harry searched through the drawers for a brush before giving up and making a huge show of patting down his robe. Conjuring a brush, he pulled it out of a pocket and glazed the fruit on the tarts. "Well, I'm glad that's done with. Now, I've got half a fish left over and nowhere to put it. I don't suppose you have any ideas?"

"You didn't cook the whole thing for lunch?"

"It's a dead big fish! I put the head into the fridge for fish head soup later in the week, but there's a lot of flesh I don't know what to do with."

"Can't you just salt it and store it in the storage room down below?"

"Er," Harry fiddled with the fruit pits and remaining berries, "there's supposedly a process to that, right?"

The pirate gaped. "You can bake pies and cook curry but you can't salt fish?"

"Hey," Harry protested, "I learned cooking in a very domesticated setting. This is my first time even aboard a ship, let alone cooking for one."

The pirate huffed. "I'll do it for you." He went to the dining table where the fish was left, the top half stripped clean to reveal its gleaming backbone and the bottom half of its flesh. Gathering a large vat, knife, board, and salt, the pirate sliced up the remaining fish and layered the segments in the vat, alternating with layers of salt, before topping it all off with a wooden board to weigh it down.

"It'll take about two weeks to cure completely."

"Right," Harry said, as he watched the process.

"I'll drop by daily until then to add more salt."

"Thanks."

"Don't lock the door with your pin trick anymore."

"Right."

The pirate grunted. "You better figure out how to do things like this soon. Preserving food is important onboard ships, you know."

"Yeah… I don't suppose you could teach me stuff like that, er, what's your name anyway?"

Arms crossed, the pirate gave Harry another one of his ridiculous glares with his teeth bared before replying. "I'm Farkas Gregory, and you better be a quick learner, 'cause I'm not the patient type."

A/N: So, yeah, uh, I hate this chapter, really. Out of all the chapters so far, this one's the most awkward, I think. But after, like, four different scenerios, I was just like, whatevs.

Some of you will be pleased to hear that this is the LAST CHAPTER WITH DETAILED COOKING. I'm finally moving on, and now that this chapter is over, the cooking doesn't play too important a role in future chapters anyways.

Uh, what else?

Oh yeah, I'm kinda pissed that there's a fortune telling mermaid now, in One Piece. So either Rakma's a liar, or it's not "magic" and "prophecies" in the HP world's definitions which I will later have to explain. Grr.

Yeah, these author's notes are kinda negative. I'm tired. Next week will be better.

Like, the chapter will be more fun, too.

224 reviews as of today, January 25. Thanks everyone :)


	17. Chapter 17: Sea King

A/N: Hey :) Happy Lunar New Year!

Chapter is not betaed. Betaed chapter will be posted when available.

Chapter Seventeen

Sea King

Greg left Harry alone after his introduction, so Harry served the fish fillets on plates and filled bowls with rice before leaving the kitchen to find Spaz.

Spaz was just exiting Laboon – and how weird did that sound? – splattered with sky blue paint.

"Hey, Spaz!"

Spaz looked up from lifting paint buckets out of the door on top of the whale.

"Harry! Wow, Harry, it's really neat in there, you should really go see, I painted the stomach of a whale and Doctor Crocus said I'm really good at painting seagulls, it was really fun!"

"Maybe I'll take a look after lunch if that's alright with the doctor. For now, can you help me fetch a barrel of pickled vegetables from storage?"

"Yes sirree, Harry, I can do that, no problem!"

Lunch was pleasant, with Shanks and Crocus seated together, recalling stories of when they were a part of the Pirate King's crew, attended to by the avid audience that was Spaz.

The pirates ate with their usual gusto, and cheered when Harry brought out the tarts. The first slice went to Crocus, of course.

"How surprising. Did you visit a tropical Summer Island recently, Shanks?"

"I haven't; brings back memories though. Do you remember that one time we landed at one and thought it was deserted?"

"Thought it was deserted. Don't you mean you thought it was deserted, and then because Buggy thought it was inhabited by cannibals, you ran ahead into the forest to try and prove him wrong?"

"Dahahahahah! That was some adventure! Who would've thought we'd find pastry chefs?"

"Made some fine tarts," Crocus added, patting some crumbs off his beard. "Course, in the end, they might as well have been cannibals, considering how they wanted to sacrifice us to their gods and eat our livers."

"Oh," Harry recalled, "that's right."

He went to the kitchen and fetched the pate he made earlier.

"Pate. I hope you don't mind that the rest of your fish is being salted, but the liver I'd like for you to have."

Spaz looked a little queasy and Crocus gave a Harry a strange look.

"This is _fish_ liver, right?"

Harry smiled. "It's quite good with crackers or bread."

"Liver is a good source of vitamins too. Doctors treated a lot of ship sicknesses with liver," Crocus added, slipping the jar into his pant pocket.

"I think I've heard that before," Harry replied. "Are there any other foods good for keeping sailors healthy?" An hour later, he'd wish he had never asked.

Harry learned more than he could possibly remember from Crocus who, once started on the values of nutrition, kept talking slowly but steadily until finally Harry begged off on account of needing to clear the table as all the pirates had long since finished eating and left.

After the dishes were done, Spaz dragged Harry to see the inside of Laboon. Harry had to admit, it looked impressively surreal down there, what with the gastric juices making a rather convincing looking ocean below the painted sky.

Eventually Shanks called them back to help bring ashore everything for the barbeque that night. Greg and Yassop had slaughtered a pig for the event, and everyone was to help bring up barrels of sake and beer and salted meat, or help Crocus prepare the net-full of smaller fish to be spit roasted.

"Oi, Kid!"

Harry looked up from fish on a stick he was roasting to see Shanks waving a tankard of beer in his direction.

"Rematch?"

Harry smiled and, biting into his fish with relish, answered, "you're on!"

Shanks wouldn't know what hit him.

"Urg."

"Com'on, Shanks, up you go," said Harry, as he and Beckmann lugged Shanks up into the ship. "Didn't you say we'd set sail after dinner? Can't do that if even the captain is knocked out cold."

"I dun' get it," Shanks slurred, awkwardly hoisting himself off the rope ladder over the ship railing, tumbling onto the deck. "Why're you sounding so sober?"

"I cheated," Harry admitted, handing Shanks a glass of water. Technically, magic was cheating, though he'd likely never tell anyone the details about that particular trick.

Shanks stared stupidly a bit, before finally laughing.

"Dahahahahaha! You bastard, cheating a pirate! Man!"

Shanks swung himself to his feet and staggered to the front of the ship.

"Is the rest of the crew onboard?"

"Not yet, Captain," Beckmann replied, jumping back onto the beach to fetch the next man.

"Just about, Shanks," Harry reassured from his position on the rope ladder, "though I doubt any of them are in any condition to sail the ship."

"Not to worry," Shanks called back, "we just need to sail to the edge of the northern Calm Belt and I'll figure out the rest."

"Calm Belt?"

"Oh, hey Spaz," Harry called down to Spaz who was sitting half-conscious on the beach, too drunk to help move people, but not so smashed that he wasn't awake enough to talk. "How many more?"

"Three or four, and Doctor Crocus says good-bye but he says he won't be seeing us off since we'll probably be back in a year like usual, but, the Calm Belt? Why are we sailing there?"

"You'll see, Boy!"

Harry wasn't sure he liked that tone of voice Shanks was using, and Spaz most certainly did not look reassured by Shanks' reply in the least. Beckmann, who had returned with another crew member, merely smiled in acceptance of his captain's decision.

Now, Harry had only read about the Calm Belts in a brief description on the dangers of the Grand Line, but the term "Sea King" certainly sounded frightening enough. Going into a nest of monsters was usually not something one does for fun, but it seems Shanks thought differently.

"Good thing it's a clear night," Shanks grinned at his crew. Well, what crew he had that was still conscious. More than half of them were sleeping off their alcohol consumption. Only Harry, Spaz, Beckman, and Shanks himself seemed in any condition to do more than just stay standing, and Harry knew nothing about sailing.

Luckily, the remaining pirates, including Lucky Roo, Yasopp, and a few pirates Harry didn't know yet, were willing and able to at least hoist anchor and help release the sails.

"Northward boys!"

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

"Why is it good that it's a clear night?" Harry asked, following Spaz and Beckman up the rigging the release the uppermost sail. "If anything, Shanks seemed happiest when we were tossing about in the storm earlier today."

"It's important," Spaz chirped, "since we need the stars to keep our heading north."

"So it's true that compasses don't work here?"

"Not the compasses we use on the Blues," Beckman explained, "and logposes don't tell us which direction we're sailing, just where the next island is."

"I see. H'up I go!" Harry swung himself onto the wooden beam holding the sail.

"So what do I do here?" Harry asked, referring the sail.

"Untie that knot over there," directed Beckman, "but keep hold of the sail until I say so. You too," Beckman told Spaz, pointing to another knot on the other side of the beam. "You handle that one."

"Yes sirree, leave it to me!"

"The wind stopped Captain!" called Yassop.

"Great!" called back Shanks. "Everyone hold on!"

"Eh?"

SPLASH

A loud rumble followed the crash of waves, and then a series of bumps and curses as everyone aboard the ship except Shanks found themselves falling to the floor as a result of the ship's violent swaying.

"What the?" Harry groaned, one hand pushing himself upright, the other instinctively grasping for his glasses before remembering he didn't wear them anymore. Blinking rapidly, Harry saw a gigantic yellow and black striped creature, like a dragon but larger than even the Hungarian Horntail towering over a fourteen-year old boy, its fins dripping water onto the deck as it loomed above.

"What the bleeding fuck is that?" Harry swore, scrambling to his feet and hoisting Spaz up while he was at it.

"S-ss, s – sea king!" Spaz stuttered, eyes wide, mouth gaping.

"Dahahahahaha!"

"Captain!" cried a voice, one of the pirates Harry didn't know, "why didn't you scare them off first?"

"Iiii-diot! If I used my Haki like I usually do, I'd be left with even less of you. How am I supposed to sail a ship then?"

After this confusing, at least, confusing to Harry, explanation, Shanks looked up at the sea king that was currently eyeing them like a tasty morsel.

"**You.**"

Harry sharply sucked in a breath. The power in that single word. Was this the Haki known as the Color of the Conquering King?

"**Down.**"

As the sea king lowering itself into the water until its eyes were level with Shanks' with an almost puppy-like whimper, Harry understood Shanks' previous statement. This Haki had an incredible pressure unlike the two Harry experienced before. If released without a purpose or target, it had the potential to knock-out anyone of weak will.

"That's a good boy!" Shanks praised, walking over to the creature and giving it firm pats on the nose. "Who's a good boy? You're a good boy," Shanks gushed, "and you'd be willing to do me a favor, yes?"

"Um, Captain?" came a tentative query.

Harry wasn't feeling nearly as polite.

"Shanks, you crazy bastard, just what in Merlin's name do you intend to do with that monster?"

"Do you know about the Isle of Women?"

Harry blinked at the abrupt question.

"Er, no."

"I've heard of it," Spaz spoke up, shaking off his shock at seeing the sea king wag its tail under Shanks' attention. "It's an island in the Clam Belt inhabited by only women." Realization dawned on Spaz's face. "You don't mean – ?"

"I've heard that of the Seven Warlords of the sea, Boa Hancock uses sea kings to travel from her island, so I wanted to try it. I mean, sea kings pulling ships across the Calm Belt! Isn't that cool?"

Harry could practically see the stars dancing in Shanks' eyes.

"So," Harry said, "I see you've already picked one. How do you plan on making it pull our ship? It's huge! If we just tie a rope around its neck – which is already pretty impossible as it's neck is several times larger than the ship, the rest of its body will be underneath us, which not only might damage the bottom of the ship, but also hinder its ability to swim."

…

Harry stared pointedly at the pirate captain, one of the four Emperors, infamous around the globe, who, for several minutes, offered no answer other than a thoughtful expression.

Harry sighed.

"Well, how does this Boa Hancock person do it?" Harry prompted.

"I've never met her, or seen her ship, so I wouldn't know," Shanks replied, "but I think she probably uses smaller ones, huh?"

"She's pretty new to her position as a warlord, but I've heard lots of rumors," Spaz offered, "like that she doesn't actually use sea kings, but Yuda, traveling snakes. Since their smaller, ropes tied to the necks of a pair of them draws their ship, and since they have poisonous venom, their smaller size doesn't tempt the attack of larger sea kings."

"Well, there aren't any traveling snakes here otherwise the sea kings wouldn't be here. Maybe we can just ride it?" Shanks pondered.

"Think you can carry the ship, boy?" Shanks asked the sea king.

"H-hey, wait a min –" Harry tried to call out, but it was too late. With a happy squeal, the gigantic creature slipped his head under the ship, and lifted the entire boat into the air, resting precariously on its snout. Splashing its tail in the water, the sea king took off across the Calm Belt at a speed that nearly tore the sails.

"Bugger."

A/N: Sorry if it was a bit hard to follow. This chapter was kinda jumpy between scenes, but I really wanted to move the story along a bit. There's more cursing now and stuff, and later, we'll really get into the angst :P

Anouncement! I need a new beta. RedValentino has real world issues to deal with for the foreseeable future, so I'll need someone to read, edit, and suggest ideas for chapters from 16 onwards. Just shoot me a review, or pm if you're interested. Thanks :)

It's February 3, 2011, and I have 237 reviews.

~ Cool


	18. Chapter 18: Chased

A/N: I love my readers :)

Chapter is not betaed. Betaed chapter will be posted when availabe.

Chapter Eighteen

Chased

"Whoo-hoo!"

Pirates were scrambling all over the deck as the series of shocks from the sudden turbulence of being lifted into the air and the high speed travel aboard a sea king woke up the sleeping and sobered everyone else.

The pirates who knew what was going on – sort of, the situation was so insane that only the most jaded worked without direct orders from Beckman – were climbing the riggings to bring in the sails while those who just woke up were trying to figure out if they were having alcohol-induced hallucinations.

The captain just stood at the bow and cheered.

Spaz, after helping with one of the sails, looped his feet into the rigging near the top and swayed in the wind, laughing hysterically.

Harry decided it was about time to retire from the madness and left for the kitchen to prepare a midnight snack for the crew.

As dawn approached, the pirates trickled back to their sleeping quarters intent on sleeping off the alcohol-induced drowsiness that had returned once the ship stabilized. Spaz, worn out from his "ride," and also still a little drunk, fell asleep on the deck. Harry, after cleaning up after the impromptu meal, joined Shanks at the head of the ship.

"Does this guy know where we're going?"

"Sure he does!" Shanks replied, before looking back past the stern of the ship where the sea king's eyes could be seen rising above the railing. "Don't you boy? We're heading to East Blue on the other side of the Calm Belt!"

The sea king gave an enthusiastic splash of his tail and a short burst of speed in affirmation.

"Loguetown is just on the other side of the Calm Belt from here. So, Kid," Shanks redirected, "just how did you stay sober after drinking so much?"

Harry gave a little secret smile. "'Fraid I can't tell you that, old man. Trade secret."

"Chefs have trade secrets for drinking?"

"I'm not a chef, Shanks, remember?" Harry explained, "I just happen to have a lot of experience cooking for people from various situations."

"Fine, fine. So what's your trade then?"

Harry paused, but eventually chose to toss away his worries for just a bit. The dawn was approaching clean and crisp. The only one here was Shanks, who accepted him perfectly fine after seeing his Devil Fruit ability and disillusionment charm.

And Harry was a bit tipsy. Magic kept him conscious and reasonable, but to never feel the effects of alcohol wouldn't be much fun.

"Magician."

Shanks' eyes widened. "Show me a trick! Do you do card tricks? Illusions?"

Harry grinned. "You saw one before, didn't you, when I turned invisible?" he teased, but held up his hand anyway. "Watch carefully."

Palming his wand, Harry reached his right hand inside Shanks' cape and wordlessly conjured a stick that looked a lot like his wand, though Shanks didn't know that. This was one conjuration Harry mastered during the war as a form of deception until he didn't even need to concentrate to permanently conjure it.

Slowly withdrawing the stick from the cape, Harry let it lie flat on his palm in front of Shanks' face and spoke clearly for dramatic effect.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

The stick rose steadily an inch, then two, then with a jerk, smacked Shanks on the head.

"Heh, hahahaha," Harry chuckled, amused by Shanks' indignant glare at the stick that now lied lifelessly on the deck as Shanks rubbed his head beneath his straw hat.

"That was really cool," Shanks finally said, forgetting about the stick.

"Thanks." To muggles, something as simple as a first year levitation charm could create endless amounts of awe. Harry smiled as he watched Shanks pick up the abandoned stick and look over it, feeling for wires or holes as evidence of some sort of trick.

Finally giving up, Shanks handed the stick back to Harry.

"Show me more!"

Maybe it was just the sun rising over the horizon reflecting off the pirate's eyes, but Harry could've sworn that at that moment, Shanks' eyes twinkled brighter than Dumbledore's ever did.

"Blue!"

With a flash, the neon green stick in Harry's hand turned the same shade of sky blue used to paint the inside of Laboon.

"Now red!"

A soft glow faded to reveal the stick had changed to match Shanks' hair.

"Awesome!" chorused Shanks and Spaz.

The two guys – Spaz had woken up and joined Shanks immediately after catching Harry in the middle of a shrinking charm demonstration – were excitedly calling out colors for Harry who was making good use of color-changing charms on his conjured wand-replica.

"Oh, oh, Harry, can you change the color of other stuff too?" Spaz asked excitedly.

"What do you have in mind?"

Shanks gestured over his shoulder at the sails. "How about turning one of the sails black? I can get Alvin to paint our Jolly Roger on it after."

Harry was starting to feel that Shanks no longer believed his magic tricks were just tricks after all with a request like that, but before he could reply, the ship gave an awful lurch.

"Whoa!"

Harry, Shanks, and Spaz were thrown onto their backs. As Harry and Spaz picked themselves off the deck, Shanks scrambled up and turned towards the sea king.

"What's wrong boy?"

With a loud, growling roar, the sea king's eyes narrowed and it took off twice as fast as before, leaving its previous northward path to go east instead.

Spaz recovered quicker than Harry and nimbly crossed the swaying deck to look over the side behind the sea king.

"Shanks! We've got a problem! We must've entered the territory of a Yuda and I think it's hungry!"

"Damn!" Shanks gazed into the eyes of the fleeing sea king. "Don't worry boy, I won't let that nasty snake do anything to you."

"Shanks!" Harry yelled over the loud wind, clinging onto the railing as he was unable to stand on his own due to the violent swaying of the ship. "Focus! Exactly how do you plan on stopping the predator of something as big as this sea king? And what about our course? We've veered off into a completely different direction!"

"Who cares about the course?" Shanks yelled back, releasing unconscious waves of Haki. His cape billowed in the energy and his straw hat threw menacing shadows across his face, the three scars across his eye almost glowing in relief. "We're pirates! We sail where the wind or sea king takes us! But I'm not letting him get eaten!"

Harry stared, leaning against the railing underneath the pressure Shanks was releasing. In the short hours since taming the creature, Shanks had gotten attached to it. The pirate was furious at the idea of letting his new pet be eaten and looked as if he'd jump right onto that pursuing Yuda to chop it's head off with his own saber if need be.

"Don't worry, Shanks," Spaz finally called out, breaking the tension. "That traveling snake isn't moving any faster than we are. Unless the sea king tires soon, we have time to figure out what to do."

Shanks relaxed a bit.

"Right. Let's think up of a plan to save Zeb!"

"Zeb?" chorused Harry and Spaz.

"'Cause he looks like a zebra," Shanks explained with a grin.

Harry and Spaz shared looks and said nothing more. Clearly this man didn't posses the fear of mere mortals when dealing with monsters.

In the end, the three didn't discuss much more after Shanks named the sea king. Spaz had asked how long the equilibrium between Zeb and the Yuda would last, and Shanks, through a series of yes and no questions directed at the sea king, found that usually, pursuits like this could last weeks before it becomes clear whether the predator succeeds in capturing a meal or the prey succeeds in escaping. As such, Harry dismissed himself and Spaz for breakfast and animal care duties and Shanks chose to rouse his crew who managed to sleep through event.

Breakfast came and went with Beckman easily deflecting his captain's crazier ideas to deal with the situation. By lunch time they were no closer to a solution, and the pirates lounged around with little to do, mostly napping to make up for lost sleep last night. By dinner time, some pirates made rope swings to ride on, taking advantage of the heavily swaying ship, a few were stuck in the sleeping quarters with motion sickness, and the rest took the time to clean their weapons.

Greg had stopped by earlier to add salt to the salting fish and teach Harry to make sausages from the leftovers of the pig slaughtered for the barbeque just yesterday.

Spaz was trying to calm the livestock.

Harry was trying to keep Lucky Roo from nicking yet another rack of meat.

It was hard to believe that in the course of just a day, the Red-Haired pirates had managed to gain a sea king for a pet, ride the sea king's head across the ocean, and then get stuck on the sea king because it was eyed by a Yuda.

The next day, Shanks snapped. While everyone else enjoyed their midmorning daze, Shanks leaped straight over the back end of the ship, onto the sea king's snout.

"Oy!" Harry startled. He was watching the clouds, trying to activate his devil powers and balanced precariously on the back railing, and as Shanks sailed past, Harry fell down with him.

"Ow, bullocks," Harry muttered, accepting a hand up from Shanks.

"Sorry about that Kid."

"Save it, old man. Mind telling me instead what the heck you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to climb Zeb and see this snake thing."

"You aren't going to do anything stupid, are you?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Hey! Give your elders some respect."

Harry just glared until Shanks dropped the topic in favor of answering Harry's question.

"I might try some Haki, I thought."

Harry blinked. "That's a surprisingly good idea. How come no one thought of it before?"

"Because we're too far away."

"Then what are you going to do about it? You aren't going to try and bring it closer, are you?"

"Nah," Shanks denied, starting the climb up the sea king's head. "Don't want to put ol' Zeb here in too much danger. I just want to test the limits a bit, see if maybe I can at least distract it or something. I can't just sit here for the next few weeks hoping the snake'll give up."

"I suppose," Harry agreed, climbing up after Shanks.

On the top, Harry and Shanks could see the vast expanse of ocean. The sky was crystal clear and the ocean was smooth as a mirror. The only wind was from being aboard a fast-moving sea king and the only currents were the ripples left behind the sea king and its pursuer, the Yuda, the traveling snake.

Like its name implied, the traveling snake did indeed look like a snake. Other than its large size and its strange mane, it looked exactly like a snake, including slit eyes and flicking forked tongue.

"**Stop.**"

Harry gave an involuntary shudder beneath Shanks' power. The snake, however, showed no outward response, likely because it was several hundred meters away.

"_**Stop.**_"

Harry froze this time before finally forcing himself to breathe. Gazing out across the water, he saw the traveling snake had not stopped.

"Damn," Shanks sighed, "no reaction at all."

Before Harry could say anything, a wave of sound washed over them. An impossibly loud hissing was being emitted from snake as if in reply to Shanks' Haki.

"_Foolishhh… thinksss… won't work… how dare he… hungry… food…yesss…_"

Harry's shook his head rapidly to clear his ears. Parseltongue. He couldn't understand the whole thing since Voldemort's horcrux in him was destroyed, but he could pick out bits and pieces of it, having studied it much like Dumbledore did, though he had yet to reach Dumbledore's level of comprehension.

For a brief moment, Harry almost regretted loosing his Parseltongue ability.

A very brief moment.

The satisfaction of Riddle's death made such petty losses more than worth it.

And of course, now that he knew at least the traveling snakes, if not normal snakes as well, of this new world spoke Parseltongue, he could continue to study it.

"So?" Harry asked Shanks, "what's the verdict?"

"I think my Haki reached that last time, but it didn't do anything other than cause a little hissy fit. If we were a little closer and I had eye contact, I might be able to knock it out along with everything else in the 500 meter range, but getting it to look at me when there's prey distracting it won't be easy," Shanks explained, clearly frustrated.

Harry thought about the situation for a bit. Shanks clearly had no intentions of abandoning "Zeb," and the chase could go on for nearly a month more. Food wasn't too much of an issue, though water supplies might be strained as there would be no rainfall in the Calm Belt. The pirates were already started to entertain themselves, but a few were suffering from motion-sickness.

In the end, though, it really came down to whether or not the sea king would be able to out-swim the traveling snake. If, after waiting the allocated time, the traveling snake caught up, just what insane ploy would Shanks resort to?

Harry would rather not find out.

"I can probably get its attention."

A/N: And that's all for now.

I think its about time I answered some of my reviews! For those this does not apply to, PLEASE at least read the last paragraph below. Thanks.

jacann: Thanks for the detailed description of the disillusionment charm :)

lighthawk610: The Leaky Cauldron, of course! Thanks, I forgot about that detail from the first book.

: Thanks :)

To everyone, I think I might have gotten my first real flame and would like to address some of the issues it brought up. Some of you might have noticed I removed "Super!Harry" from the summary and changed Robin as the second character to Shanks. This is due to the fact that Harry isn't super yet, won't be for some chapters yet, and Robin won't be reintroduced for awhile, and these two problems apparently is irritating to some people, so sorry :( Otherwise, um, if someone could maybe point out specific places where I make Harry emo or stupid so I can fix it up a bit, that'd be appreciated! There's still angst coming, so if Harry is already too emo, that's a problem o_0

254 reviews today, February 9, 2011


	19. Chapter 19: Attack

A/N: Sorry it's a bit late.

Chapter is not betaed. Betaed chapter will be posted when available.

Chapter Nineteen

Attack

"I can probably get its attention."

Harry sat down on the sea king's head.

"But I'll also need to be a little closer. First off, what did you mean you'd knock out everything in a 500 meter radius?"

Shanks joined Harry in sitting and patted the sea king.

"Basically, I'll send a large burst of Haki in the Yuda's general direction. With eye contact, I should be able to focus enough of it to knock it out, even about 500 meters away, but I'm sacrificing control for power. Everyone on the ship and Zeb would definitely be knocked out too, and anything between us and the Yuda would as well. You?"

"Trade secret."

"You aren't going to turn the Yuda different colors, are you?" Shanks teased.

Harry stuck his tongue out. "Wouldn't you like to know? But seriously, I think I've got a pretty good chance at getting it to look at us. We'll have to get closer, though, and also get the ship off Zeb unless you want us to crash when he falls unconscious."

"Can do. Come on then, Kid, let's get my crew off their lazy asses."

There wasn't actually any work for the crew to do. Shanks explained to the sea king that it would have to let the Yuda closer and then put the ship back into the water. It was testament to Shanks' power that the sea king easily agreed to allow the predator to draw nearer.

The crew prepared oars for rowing the ship out of the Calm Belt once they wake up before finding a comfortable place for unconsciousness.

Harry was second-guessing his decision to volunteer getting the traveling snake's attention. He could speak only two words of Parseltongue now: open, and stop. Along with a sonorous charm, "stop" should be sufficient in either impressing the snake with his ability or angering it with his arrogance, both of which should encourage its approach. If neither, then a well aimed Conjunctivitus Curse would have it pursuing the ship easily enough.

He didn't want the crew to hear him regardless of what he does, however. People finding out he could speak Parseltongue brought him nothing but trouble in the past, and demonstrating offensive spell-casting skills might trigger more reactions like Greg's, or unwanted expectations in future battles.

A temporary silencing ward around the ship from the lookout point downward would solve that problem. A few runes carved into the wood at five points to mark the boundaries and Harry could activate a thirty second ward that would stop the sound of Harry's voice from entering the area by channeling magic into the rune on the floor of the crow's nest.

But did he have the right to do something like that to Shanks' ship? Runes, once activated, would heat and, in this case, possibly burn themselves deep into the wooden planks and resist any magical repairs. These runes also happened to be one use only – if he was stuck in another situation like this, Harry would have to carve fresh runes, further damaging a ship he had no rights to.

In the end, Harry chose to go ahead with carving the runes, for now. If the pirates were going to react negatively to his abilities, Harry wanted it to happen when the threat of unconsciousness – leaving him vulnerable to attack – wasn't looming in the immediate future.

"Alright Shanks, let's do this," Harry called out from his position at lookout point.

"Got it!" Shanks turned back to the sea king. "Alright boy, slow down a bit, okay?"

The sea king began the slow down, as if tiring from the Yuda's pursuit. When the distance between predator and prey shortened to three hundred meters, the sea king slipped its head down, placing the ship back into the water with a gentleness that belied its great size. Once the ship was steady, the sea king took off at top speed once more under Shanks' direction.

Harry took this time to crouch down towards the primary rune.

"_Actum_."

Feeling the runes activate, Harry pointed his wand at his throat and cast a Sonorus before yelling at the traveling snake.

"_Ssstop!_"

With a jerk, the snake pulled its attention away to glance in the ship's direction. At first, it didn't seem to see it, since the ship was quite small. Although Spaz said Hancock used Yuda to pull her ship, Harry was having doubts as this one seemed quite large. Not nearly as big as the sea king, but still several times larger than the ship.

Not seeing the ship, or perhaps it saw it and dismissed the puny thing as insignificant, the snake seemed about to pursue the sea king again, so Harry once more yelled out to it, wincing as he felt the ward fall halfway through his word.

"_Ssstop!_"

This time, the snake was visibly annoyed. It turned towards the ship and swam closer.

Harry cast a Quietus and lied down in preparation for Shanks' Haki. He did _not_ like the idea of being knocked unconscious by someone else but thought that experiencing the power of Haki first hand would be more educational than lightly stunning himself.

He waited.

And waited.

What was happening? Harry thought, rolling over to glance down through the barred railing. Shanks was just standing there, not even looking at the approaching snake.

No, he was watching the sea king.

Harry cursed. Of course! If the sea king was knocked out too, then whoever woke up first would "win," and Shanks wasn't going to risk that.

280 meters, 260, 240…

Harry watched the traveling snake with mounting dread. At 200 meters, Harry could see the ship as a tiny speck reflected in the snake's eyes.

Then finally, Shanks snapped his head to face the Yuda. His right hand reached up to tilt his straw hat back.

There were no words. Harry watched with fascination as a soundless but visible pulse of energy blasted from Shanks body. The last thing he saw was the ocean itself rippling out towards the Yuda before the world went black.

CLANG CLANG

BAM!

BA-BOOM!

With a crash, Harry fell straight out of bed.

Wait, bed?

Untangling himself from the covers, Harry looked around, locating the exits – a door and a pair of windows – and taking stock of his condition – clothed, dizzy, hungry, thirsty, need the bathroom, still in possession of his wand and still pulsing magic against water though once more extended to over a centimeter's distance – before getting up and approaching the door.

Beyond the door was a sight beyond Harry's wildest predictions.

The deck of the ship was filled with pirates, most of them not from the Red-Hair crew. The clanging of metal against metal could be heard as the pirates fought with a variety of close quarter weapons, mostly swords and fists.

"Merlin's beard. What happened while I was out?"

"Harry!"

Harry turned and was immediately pounced on. Recognizing Spaz, Harry forced his magic to calm after the unexpected attack.

"Harry, you're okay, that's great, you were out for almost a week, how are you feeling, do you need anything, can I get you something, how about some water – "

"Spaz!"

"Right, sorry," Spaz said sheepishly, stepping back from Harry and stopping the stream of questions, though he bounced on his toes with impatience.

"I'm fine, all things considered. Anything I need I can take of, no worries, okay? More importantly, what the heck is going on here?"

"Oh, this?" Spaz looked out at the deck where pirates were dropping the ground in sprays of blood, "we're under attack by some pirate fleet. Shanks is taking care of it pretty well."

"I… I see."

Steeping out a bit more, Harry could see the battle more clearly. Surrounding the ship were seven other ships, all flying the same flag of a Jolly Roger wearing what looked like an old fashioned European wig.

With a start, Harry realized that the ships were firing cannonballs and yet not a single one was hitting Shanks' ship. With shock and disbelief, Harry saw Beckman running on the railing after each cannonball, and, reminiscent of a beater hitting a bludger, used his rifle to knock them back at the enemy ship.

The first mate stayed on the port side, however. At starboard, there was no cannon fire and a glance upward explained why. Yassop was crouched in the crow's nest with a musket. With a steady eye, he shot an almost continuous stream of bullets at the three ships, unbelievably aiming at the cannon hatches. Because of his angle, he couldn't kill anyone, but getting a bullet in the foot would certainly distract someone from firing a cannon.

In front of the ship was the largest enemy ship. A man, probably the captain, was standing at the bow. Dressed like a fancy, renaissance French sailor, he waved his fencing sword around, yelling.

"Attack! It eez only vun sheep! Ve vill be victorious and claim fame, reeches, and ze zea 'orse!"

Sea horse?

A loud whinny interrupted Harry's confusion. Between Shanks' ship and the enemy ship, a large creature soared out of the water.

Unlike seahorses back home, this monster looked exactly like a horse along the upper half, hooves included, but with a large fish tail. And it was green, instead of the usual earth tones of normal horses.

"He got another sea monster?"

"Yes sirree," Spaz answered, "that's Frank. He's really nice. Shanks thought it'd be cool to have a horse pull us. I think that's one of the reasons we're being attacked right now, though. Apparently the enemy saw it and thought it was domesticated and decided to steal it."

"From Shanks?"

"Well, he didn't know it was Shanks until he got closer, but apparently that just encouraged him. He wasn't intimidated, no sirree, he wasn't. Thought he might try and make a name for himself by defeating an Emperor."

"Where is Shanks, anyway?"

"Uh… you might want to look closer at the sea horse."

Turning back to the battlefield, Harry gazed across the deck at the sea horse. A loud whoop rang through the air. Sure enough, Shanks was riding the sea horse, settled between the ears. Grinning like no tomorrow, he didn't even have his saber drawn, one hand grasping the seaweed-like mane of the sea horse, the other holding onto his hat.

Apparently, Shanks was treating the whole thing like a game.

And perhaps that's how the rest of his crew felt as well. Beckman was blasting back cannonballs with vigor, Yassop had a large grin on his face, and the rest of the crew was roaring excitedly as they beat back the invading pirates.

"Where's Lucky Roo?" With such a large girth, he didn't seem like one easily missed.

"He's out stealing treasures from the ships. It's the strangest thing, yes sirree, but when he left, I lost track of him, practically couldn't see him even unless I focused real hard on where I knew he was. Once I took my eyes off him, I couldn't find him again. It's real creepy but really cool too. He makes a great thief!"

"Right." Trying but failing to imagine not being able to find Lucky Roo of all people, Harry shook his head.

"Well, it seems like they're fine. I need the loo; then I might as well return to cooking duty. Hopefully they'll be done by dinner."

"So," Harry started, stirring the chicken soup while Spaz put the bread dough into the oven, "a week, huh?"

"Five days, actually. No one knew what was wrong. Shanks slept a bit, but he, Beckman, Yassop, and Lucky Roo were awake in less than a day, I heard, and everyone else woke up the next morning."

"Hmm," Harry hummed. He wondered if maybe he was weaker to Haki because he had none of his own, not being from the world, and all. He didn't seem any more vulnerable to it before, but perhaps when he was awake, he could will himself to withstand it like fighting the Imperius Curse. Once he was unconscious, he couldn't fight back the effects.

"Who cooked then?"

"Everyone took turns. Apparently that's how they used to do it. None of them are very good though," Spaz whispered, as if telling a secret. "A lot of them can't even make rice and set out barrels of food directly from storage with crates of biscuits. Some of them held barbeques. Only Greg made actual meals – he used the fish from the fridge to make soup once, and he's a lot nicer now, you know, even asked me how you were doing – but they were really simple stuff. I mostly just looked after the animals. The chickens are laying a lot of eggs but the cows are getting kind of stingy with the milk."

"How's the food in storage? Anything rotting yet?"

"Umm, I don't really know. I made applesauce with some of the soft apples, but I don't know what to do with anything else. Grandma never let me in the kitchen back on the farm."

"That might be a problem." It's been some time now since the produce was first brought aboard the ship. Harry would need to see what he could do to preserve it. He might need to ask Greg for help, since the pirate knew more about things like that. Harry could jam fruits, but other things were beyond him without the use of preservation charms.

"Oh well, we'll deal with it tomorrow. How's the fighting going?"

"Still going, Harry. I think they're having too much fun," Spaz spoke with awe, watching the Red-Haired pirates still fighting strong, their opponents still outnumbering them but looking much worse for the wear.

"Damn. I'm going to try and tell them dinner is ready," Harry decided, turning off the stove and covering the pot of soup. "You watch the bread. If I'm not back in twenty minutes and the loaves turn a golden brown, take them out. Just don't forget to use the pot holders."

"Yes sirree, Harry, will do!" Spaz answered, flicking off a mock salute.

Harry left the kitchen and took off across the deck. Stepping nimbly over and around the unconscious bodies of enemy pirates, he picked his way around, looking for someone he could talk to about finishing up the fight.

To his right, he noticed Greg was in the midst of a brawl with three other men. The three men dived at him, but Greg just ducked under the punch of the first one, coming up on the other side while delivering a punch to the gut of another man. Turning deftly, he swung another punch to the jaw of the last one while tripping up the first one who had over extended at Greg's unexpected dodge. An elbow drop between the shoulder blades finished him.

Harry gave an impressed whistle. The whole series of movements took all of maybe five seconds.

"You're pretty good at hand-to-hand combat," Harry said, approaching the pirate.

Greg look over having confirmed all three men were truly down for the count.

"You're awake, finally," he grunted.

"Yep, and dinner's ready. You guys gonna finish up soon?"

"You'll have to ask the captain."

Harry looked around, finally spotting Shanks still riding on the sea horse, only this time swimming – galloping? – circles around the ship, teasing the enemy captain who had discarded his fencing sword for a pistol instead, shooting fruitlessly at Shanks who deflected them all easily with his saber.

"Right. Er, I'll do that."

Greg snorted at Harry's bewildered expression.

"It'll be easier than you think. Just tell him you cooked dinner. God knows we're sick of pickled vegetables and hardtack."

Then before Harry could respond, he picked out another enemy pirate and charged.

Was that a compliment? Harry wondered.

Smiling to himself over this small show of acceptance, Harry decided to do as the man said. Beckman had stopped playing baseball with his rifle and incoming cannonballs as the shots had stopped coming so Harry ran along the railing in favor of picking over the fallen bodies on the deck.

Reaching the figurehead, Harry carefully stepped onto it and yelled towards Shanks.

"Oooiiii! Shanks!"

"Kid!" Shanks turned towards Harry, sheathed his saber, and waved.

Harry startled as a bullet flew at the pirate captain but it bounced lightly off of Shanks' Color of Armaments.

"You're up!"

"Yeah, and I made dinner! When are you gonna wrap up the fight and come eat?"

"Awesome!" Quick as a flash, Shanks leaped onto the enemy ship, rushed at the enemy captain, and knocked him out with a sharp chop to the back of the neck.

A pulse of Haki knocked out all the other pirates on the ship, and Shanks rode the sea horse back to his own crew.

"Wrap it up, men!"

With a loud cry, Shanks' men doubled their attacks and made short work of the remaining enemy.

Harry watched, impressed, as the enemy ships were stripped of their flags, the men thrown back on the ships, and the treasures carried onto the nearly cleared deck.

Half an hour later, the crew was gathered in the kitchen, toasting celebratory beer to Harry's chicken soup, bread, and honey-glazed ham.

A/N: That was fun, yeah?

Still need a beta, if anyone would like to volunteer? Or recommend someone? Thanks :)

Thank you everyone who reviewed to reassure me that Harry was not too emo! I'll try to keep future angst down to a minimum, but eventually I'll have to address the fact that he committed suicide o_0

275 reviews as of today, February 17, 2011


	20. Chapter 20: Ghost Fruit

A/N: Uh, I'm sorry?

Chapter Twenty

Ghost Fruit

"Is that all you're eating, Kid?" Shanks asked, eyeing Harry's half-empty bowl of chicken soup doubtfully.

"I did just wake up from several days' worth of unconsciousness," Harry replied, getting up from the table. "I don't know what you insane pirates eat after something like that, but my stomach can't handle much after being starved that long."

"Cheh, your stomach certainly seems strong when you're drinking."

"Idiot Shanks, it's not my stomach that keeps me drinking."

"Yeah? What then?"

Harry grinned, before ducking into the kitchen. "I told you already. Trade secret!"

With a dramatic flourish, Harry brought out a tray into the dining room of stuffed pirates.

"Flan for dessert today, since Spaz was so successful in collecting eggs these past few days."

A cheer rang through the room, despite the confused looks on a few of the pirates' faces who probably had never heard of flan before. Apparently the last few days had been hard on them, or more specifically, their stomachs, with their cook laid away.

"You and trade secrets," Shanks sighed, accepting his plate of flan. "Well, I don't suppose our resident magician can make this dinner and a show? Maybe translate that conversation you had with the Yuda? Man, he looked pretty damned insulted."

Harry startled and shot a quick glance at Greg, but the man was focused on eating his flan, absentmindedly fighting off his friend – Al was it? – from stealing it.

The other pirates, having heard Shanks' comment, were looking at him with curiosity, and Harry gave in.

"Well, as a magician, I picked up some basics in snake charming. As for the show, I suppose I could."

"Oh, oh!" Spaz bounced in his seat and waved his hand frantically in the air. "Can I be the magician's assistant? Oh, please oh please oh pleeeeeassse?"

Harry laughed. "Sure," he agreed, and promptly turned the boy's brown hair an electric yellow.

The look on everyone's faces was priceless, and Harry took advantage of the time to scoot out of there.

"Magician, huh?"

Harry turned around from the dishes he was washing. Greg had walked in, carrying his empty dishes. He had probably left the pirates under the guise of bringing his dirty plates and silverware to Harry.

"Well," Harry replied, turning back to his scrubbing, "there're not a lot of professions that fit so appropriately with my power."

"Hmph," Greg snorted, "all powers fit the title of pirate."

Harry paused, then, eyes flickering unsurely up to glance at the pirate, put the dishes down and turned around to face him fully.

"What do mean to say, Greg?" Harry asked, curious by the strange remark.

Greg stared blankly into open air for awhile before appearing to come to a decision.

"I'm going to teach you to fight. Tomorrow afternoon."

And with that, the pirate dropped his dishes into the sink behind Harry before sweeping out the door.

What in Merlin's name was that about?

* * *

Clanging.

Explosions.

Blood.

Harry woke with a start, tumbling from his cot in the sleeping quarters aboard the ship, breath short, eyes frantically darting around at the shadows, and sweaty palms clenching his wand and his robes.

Nightmare.

Inhaling deeply, Harry let it out slowly and raised himself up to his feet.

Bare feet padding quietly against the floor, Harry went onto the deck for some fresh air.

A soft night breeze ruffled Harry's hair, and the tired wizard closed his eyes, reveling in the refreshing coolness against his feverish head.

It seemed the nightmares had finally caught up. Perhaps he was stressed out today. He did, after all, just wake up from a shallow coma, watched a bloody battle – though Shanks' crew apparently didn't find their opponents worth killing at least – and revealed a tiny bit of magic – and Parseltongue which resulted in more than enough trouble in the past world – to a ship of pirates, all of whom could kill him under the right, or wrong, circumstances.

Or perhaps, the novelty of this new world had worn off already. That's how it's been the past three years. He'd find some hobby, throw himself into it, trying to accept it as his new life, leave behind the war like everyone else, be normal like he'd always dreamed.

Dreamed. Ha. The only constant in his dreams were that as soon as his abrupt obsession with the new activity wore off, the nightmares came back.

Harry stared down at his hands.

"So much blood," he whispered into the darkness.

"They look clean to me."

Harry jumped. Leaping backwards, Harry dropped into a crouch, wand out and ready, its tip glowing as a spell balanced precariously on the tip of the wizard's tongue.

"Calm down," came the voice again, "I'm already dead."

Out of the shadows stepped out a young man, tall and lanky, a large grin splayed on his face as he held his hands out in the universal sign that he meant no harm.

Harry looked at him a little confusedly. He couldn't remember anyone this young in Shanks' crew.

Replaying the person's words in his mind, Harry's eyes widened as he glanced down on the floor below and saw no shadow.

"Ghost."

"Yep," came the cheery reply. "Gotta say, it's nice to be able to talk to someone again."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, replacing his wand into his robe sleeve.

"No one else can see me, unfortunately. It's ever so boring sometimes."

Harry quirked an eyebrow. Boring. Anyone on this ship complaining of boredom had to be a ghost.

"So why can I, then?"

"Eh," the ghost shrugged, "you ate the devil fruit, you tell me."

"H-how?" Harry stuttered. He was pretty sure he never mentioned to anyone, even Spaz, that he had eaten a devil fruit.

"Pff," the ghost huffed. "I'm a ghost and the fruit you ate gave you ghostly powers. I'm pretty sure most of the older ghosts would be able to tell just by getting close. Guess I'm the first you've met though, yeah? You probably don't even know how to use your power yet"

"Yeah," Harry easily admitted. It was odd, but he hadn't been able to turn immaterial – er, into a ghost – since leaving the island.

"Try it now," the ghost prompted, leaning forward at an impossible angle, his legs lifting off the ground until he was practically lying horizontally in the air, still at eye level.

With a dubious expression, Harry concentrated on his desire to use his fruit power, to lose substance. No. Rather, to turn into a ghost, to _die_.

A tingle at his fingertips alerted Harry to his success, just as he realized the irony of his fruit power.

Rakma, that bastard. He was probably incredibly pleased with his smart-ass decision to stick Harry, who had died, with the devil fruit that could turn him into a ghost.

"Happen to have one to give to me, he says," Harry grumbled, "my ass."

"Awesome." The ghost perked up, dropping back to his feet and sticking a hand out.

"Nice to meet you."

Harry stuck his own hand out and grasped the ghost's in a firm handshake.

"You too." Harry cocked his head in question, "who are you anyway?"

The ghost grinned his silly smile, showing off his teeth in a playful manner.

"I follow the hat."

Harry was up early the next morning, gazing mournfully at the food in the storage.

He hadn't been able to get anymore information out of the ghost about who he was other than the follower of Shanks' straw hat. He didn't seem to have any malicious intentions though, so after an hour trying to figure out how to float and another hour just flipping back and forth between his ghost-state and living-state, Harry gave sleep another go.

It didn't work well, much to Harry's disappointment. He gave up soon after and decided to get to work with preserving things as necessary. Greg was coming by later after all, to do whatever it was he meant when he said he'd teach Harry to fight.

It wasn't looking good. The apples would be easy. They were a bit too ripe for jam, so he'd recruit Spaz – who seemed quite happy with his new hair color – into making bucketfuls of applesauce instead. As for the veggies…

Harry didn't know much about preserving vegetables. The potatoes could probably keep another week, but the rest? It would take ages to bake various vegetable breads and then there would be the problem of storing so much bread!

He'd have to get Greg to teach him pickling. For now, he'd bake and boil before breakfast. Maybe he could get use some of the greens in omelets?

"Omelets to order today," Harry announced, setting the table with baskets of fresh bread. "Grab a plate and line up," he told the pirates, "and head into the kitchen. You'll find a bunch of stuff on the counter. Just take whatever you want on your omelet and hand the plate to me when it's your turn."

Armed with a large bowl of whisked eggs and a tall bottle of oil, Harry quickly served the pirates their breakfasts, their second helpings, and the occasional thirds.

"And you Spaz?" Harry finally directed towards the younger who was easily mashing apples into sauce with his unnatural strength.

"Cheese and bacon!" Spaz ordered brightly around a mouthful of cucumber bread, replacing the apple sauce in his bowl for the last of the not-yet-mashed apple segments.

The last of the egg was easily made into a cheese and bacon omelet for Spaz, and another omelet of leftover fillings for Harry.

"Here you go," Harry placed Spaz's breakfast on the now empty kitchen counter. "Thanks for the help with the apples."

"No problem, Harry," Spaz replied cheerfully, "I like making applesauce. Good memories."

Harry smiled sadly. "That's good. Memories are important."

A shadow flickered across Spaz' face.

"Ano… Even the bad ones?" Spaz asked quietly, mashing the apples a little more vigorously. "Even the tainted one?"

Harry blanked his face, then reached over and squeezed Spaz's shoulder. "Don't ask me to be a hypocrite Spaz."

Harry and Spaz worked quietly in the kitchen the rest of the morning, preserving what they could and cooking lunch.

Harry was trying to figure out some other meal he could make that would minimize the amount of time he'd have to spend in the same room as the whole pirate crew. Omelets to order as breakfast conveniently provided Harry the excuse to stay in the kitchen, but for lunch, he'd probably have to sit down with everyone again and hope they wouldn't ask questions he didn't yet know how to answer.

He needn't have worried. Lunch came and went with little mishap. The pirates ate with their usual appetite, Spaz bounced around asking random questions about their heading, and Shanks was planning their new route now that they were on the complete opposite side of East Blue they had originally planned on visiting.

It was a relief but also very confusing. Everyone seemed so carefree on this ship. No one seemed to care about the power he's demonstrated so far – except for Greg but even they managed to come to an understanding. Were they all just stupid? Naïve? Or maybe, Harry thought to himself, remembering that last image of Shanks' Haki, just jaded to it all.

He was tempted to just come clean.

Harry snorted. Yeah, right. Hey guys, I'm a wizard and a devil fruit user and I have enough power to kill you all if I felt like it.

Maybe he'd just stop actively trying to hide it and let the pirates draw their own conclusions. Shanks wasn't his captain and the Red-Haired pirates wasn't his crew. Spaz had clearly announced he had no plans to become a pirate. If things got messy, Harry would just leave.

* * *

"Ready?"

Harry looked at Greg a little warily. The pirate had taken him after lunch to the back deck behind the cabin that held the kitchen, map room, and Captain's quarters.

"For what, exactly?"

Sudden, Greg rushed forward, fist raised.

"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed, falling to the floor, then sprinting backwards and using a few piled up water barrels as steps, scrambled onto the deck's roof. He perched on the edge and glared at the pirate who had watched it all with an amused look on his face.

"So you've been attacked before, though climbing rooftops isn't the most strategic evasive action. If your attacker had a gun, you'd be stuck or dead."

Harry though that over a bit. The climbing was an instinct from his childhood when Dudley and his gang went Harry-hunting. They mostly left him alone if he hid in trees or climbed on top of the roof of the public restroom in the park and while occasionally they threw rocks, their aim was quite awful and Harry was nimble enough to duck most of them while perched up high.

Being attacked physically had brought out those strange reflexes and Harry had to admit, they were probably quite dangerous habits to have in this new world where combat was just about anything goes.

Harry jumped down to face Greg once more.

"So are you going to teach me the proper way to react to punch, then?"

"Yep."

Maybe it was the change in pace, or maybe that one day was an exception due to the pirate battle, but Harry didn't have any more nightmares for a week. His days were spent cooking at meal times, preserving food in the mornings, learning hand-to-hand basics with Greg in the afternoons, learning about ships from Spaz and Beckman in the evenings, and interacting with the ghost during the twilight hours before dawn.

The ghost was a mystery. Always cheerful and grinning, he reminded Harry a lot of Shanks. He never talked about himself much, though, and most of their time was spent learning Harry's Ghost powers and seeing just how many things the ghost could do that Harry could do as well.

"Why can people see me and not you, though?" Harry asked, once.

"Ehhh," the ghost hummed, flipping upside down and crossing his arms over his chest, "you aren't exactly normal."

Harry started. "You think it's my magic?"

Harry had confided his magical abilities to the ghost the second night, since it was unlikely to do any harm and he needed someone to bounce ideas off of who actually understood Harry's situation in its entirety. The ghost didn't know his whole history, but he did know about Harry being from a different world and having a power with almost limitless capability.

"That actually makes some sense," Harry thought aloud. "Back home, witches and wizards who came back as ghosts were visible to at least all the other living witches and wizards. Maybe them having magic is why."

"What limits do you think there are to this Ghost power?" Harry asked another night after watching the ghost float several times around the boat.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, motion-wise, how high can I go? And, when I turn into a ghost, my clothes follow, but just how much can I take with me into ghostiliness and is it possible to leave anything behind?"

"Pff," the ghost huffed, turning on side and sinking down into the planks until only the right half of his body was visible. "There aren't any limits to how we move. We don't have a body, so anything you can think of, you can do, unless you're an anchored ghost."

"Like you," Harry stated.

The ghost grinned. "I follow the hat."

Shaking his head, Harry chose not to pursue that topic as the ghost tended to be quite closed-mouth about it, and thought more on his own power.

"If physical limitations don't exist, why do I feel tired when I climb around as a ghost?"

"'Cause you still thinking like you have a body," explained the ghost. "You gotta think you don't have anything to get tired."

Harry scowled. "Mind over matter, huh? I'll manage. Being a wizard makes it easier to accept to impossible. But…"

Harry dug around in his pockets and removed a fruit. Placing it on the ground before him, Harry switched back to being "alive." Reaching out with one of his conjured fake wands, he poked the fruit and smiled when the stick went straight through.

"Wicked! Just think; if I can bring it back, then I have the best way to hide important stuff from being stolen or even seen."

"Wow!" The ghost floated over to take a look. Reaching a hand out, he plucked the fruit up and took a bite.

"Mmm, it's been ages since I've tasted anything."

Harry watched a little warily. He still remembered the Hogwarts ghosts having similar sentiments about eating and was a little worried about the implications of ghost fruit. Could they even digest it?

The ghost quickly polished the fruit and tossed the pit at Harry in jest.

It bounced off his head.

A/N: And the story continues! Man, I'm so excited for the next chapter - this one is a bit of a transition chapter into my first major arc where they'll be lots of stuff happening :)

Thanks for sticking with me so long. I am very hopeful that it will only get better from here. And, of course, it's thanks to my new beta, PyromanianBlackWings, and my old beta RedValentino sticking around as a story advisor.

301 reviews as of today, March 12 2011!


	21. Chapter 21: Marines Pirates & Civilians

A/N: Hey guys! I was going to post this yesterday, but the site was being stupid and not letting me, sorry!

Finally, we see our first major enemy character, and Harry's first major vision, and the pirate crew's landing at Windmill village :)

Chapter Twenty-One

Marines, Pirates, and Civilians

Harry gazed out across the ocean. It was early morning and the wind was blowing steadily, which was good since Shanks had finally decided to try docking at one of the smaller islands in the vicinity and wanted to arrive before night so as not to terrify the residents with images of being murdered in their sleep.

Of course, being able to see the pirate ship approach was sure to cause just as much panic.

Harry snorted as he absentmindedly tossed the ghost fruit pit up and down in his hand. Shanks would probably charm them within minutes of setting foot on the pier.

He leaned against the railing, staring at his new object of interest. The wind that whipped Harry's hair and robes around didn't affect the pit one bit, which was to be expected since it was a ghost after all. What was strange was that Harry's hand in its living state could catch and toss it about.

Especially since he couldn't touch the Straw Hat ghost – as he had started to refer to the boy – when he tried to play a game of living/ghost tag with him.

It was odd and Harry had a few theories as to why it might be with no way of confirming any.

The most likely reason was probably simply because he was the one responsible for the fruit pit's current state. Maybe his Devil fruit power recognized it as still part of Harry. The Straw Hat ghost emphasizes "mind over matter" quite often, though never in those words. With that in mind, a lot of things beyond just a ghost's strange physical abilities could be explained.

When a ghost dies they still wear clothes and accessories which all act the same way as expected on living humans, such as falling downwards as if they were affected by gravity. In that case, anything Harry brings into ghost state with him would act the way he expects it to, hence why the fruit didn't just sink through the floor when he left it there. When the Straw Hat ghost threw the pit at his head, he must have instinctively expected it to hit him and bounce off his head, so it did.

What Harry really wanted to know though was the potential this ability had for storing and hiding objects or weapons. If he made his wand ghostly and left it like that, no one could ever unarm him, and since it was all a matter of belief, he could potentially use his own body as storage which would certainly be dramatic and fun but also awe-inspiring to future opponents. Unfortunately, there was the matter of how much time it would take to shift back into ghost state and then take items with him back into the living state.

Gah, Harry shook his head, I'll figure it out. With enough practice, maybe I can make the shift between states instantaneous and then none of this will be a problem.

With this decision made, Harry replaced the ghost pit into his robe pocket and shoved himself off the railing he was leaning against when suddenly he lost control of his limbs as his mind was forcibly dragged into a vision.

_A dark room. It is nighttime as the small windows twinkle with a smattering of stars. In one corner, a small light glows as a single man with his head bowed down is scribbling what looks to be a report._

_ A knock echoes across the room._

_ "Enter," the man calls out, still writing on the sheets of paper._

_ "Sir!" replies the young man who opens the door, his hand raised in salute and his posture stiff. From the hallway, artificial light floods the front half of the room, revealing a rug with a simplistic design of a lightly clouded sky fading into the deeper blue of the ocean._

_ "At ease," the officer, for he is apparently of higher rank than the visitor, offers without raising his eyes from his writing._

_ "Thank you sir. Sir, Petty Officer Gyro is done interrogating the pirate captain taken into custody earlier today."_

_ "I see," the officer hums, setting his fountain pen down to shuffle through his papers. A fresh sheet is found and placed on top of the pile. The pen is taken up once more and poised about the paper. "Report."_

_ "Sir. The pirate is Zoldeo of Seven Ships with a bounty of 5 million. All his crew and ships are accounted for but nothing of value has been found in his possession."_

_ SNAP._

_ The marine pauses in his report, eyeing the broken pen nervously as the ink trickled between his officer's fingers._

_ After a moment, the officer puts down the broken pieces and calmly wipes his fingers with a handkerchief. For the first time he raises his head to actually face the man giving the report. The flickering candlelight reveals large bags under small but strikingly blue eyes, deeply set on a thin, sallow face with sharp cheekbones and thin lips._

_ "Continue."_

_ "Hai" the marine bites out, licking his lips nervously. "The pirate claims he was attacked and pillaged by Red-Haired Shanks whom he saw enter the Blue from the direction of the Calm Belt. He wasn't conscious to see in which direction the ship departed."_

_ "I see." The officer carefully lifts up the paper he had been using to take notes on the report and folds it neatly before tossing it into the trash. Then he pulls open a drawer and picks around for another writing utensil. Finding another fountain pen, he bends over again and restarts his original report._

_ "You are dismissed."_

_ "Hai, Warrant Officer Blue."_

_ The door closes, shutting out the light and leaving the room dark but for the single candle and twinkling stars._

_ For a period of time it seemed the officer was going to continue writing his report and ignore what he had been told when, halfway through a word, the pen falls from his limp fingers and the man leans back to gaze out the window._

_ "Red Hair," he whispers to the emptiness. "I wonder if you have any idea of what you've just done. Keh, probably not. Likely, you saw it as just another plunder. But it matters not. I now have the perfect reason to try my hand against a Grand Line pirate."_

Harry stumbled, managing to catch himself before he fell to the ground. He blinked rapidly a few times, his mind trying to make sense of the new information.

It took only a few minutes for Harry to realize that things were about to get a bit more dangerous.

It took only a few seconds for Harry to remember that a vision was hardly the only reason to believe his life onboard the ship of a Yonkou would get a bit more dangerous.

It took even less time for Harry to cringe as he wondered how the Potter Luck would react to being on a pirate ship being pursued by the marines in a completely different world.

* * *

"Land ho!" cried a pirate Harry didn't yet know very well.

"Guess we'll wrap up early, today," Greg offered. He and Harry were doing their daily afternoon physical training. After teaching Harry some basic blocks, dodging, and how to throw a proper punch, they'd moved on to building speed, stamina, and physical strength. Greg apparently agreed with Spaz's earlier diagnosis of Harry being a speed type fighter and they often would end a training session with Greg as the attacker and testing to see just how long Harry could dodge his kicks and punches without leaving the general area or climbing any higher than a barrel.

"Sure," Harry agreed, eager to see just how Shanks planned to ingratiate the crew with the islanders.

Spaz was already bouncing up and down in anticipation.

"Harry, Harryharryharry we're here! I wonder what it's like! It looks kinda small and I don't really see a lotta houses so it might be like that village in West Blue but that's okay 'cause it had some good food and sake and the people were pretty nice too, yes sirree, weren't they?"

Harry hummed noncommittally. They were rather friendly to Harry and Spaz, but Harry couldn't help but remember his flashing visions of how they treated Robin like a freak when she was just a child.

"Well," Harry finally replied, "Shanks mentioned that the place is a small port town like the one in West Blue, so there's bound to be a tavern there." Harry smirked. "Knowing Shanks, that's likely the first place we'll end up."

"Kid! Boy!" Speak of the devil.

Harry turned around and saw Shanks on the other side of the ship standing in a row boat that had been brought on deck from the storage holds.

"Wanna come?"

Spaz jumped at the chance. "Oh, oh, can we? Yes, please, I'm coming!" In the blink of an eye he was bouncing lightly next to the rowboat, waiting for it to be lowered into the water.

Harry followed after at a much more human pace with a teasing grin. "What's the matter Shanks, afraid the civilians will try and blow the big bad pirate out of the water if you don't bring along some mediators?"

"Dahahah! Just you watch, Kid! I'll have the crew drinking sake by this sunset!"

"That I've got to see," Harry announced, arriving to stand next to Spaz.

The rowboat was carefully lowered into the water and Spaz, Harry, and Beckman joined Shanks in the small vessel climbing down the rope ladder along the side of the ship. With lighthearted teasing from the crew left behind of planning mutiny in the captain's absence, the four men departed with Spaz and Harry rowing, Beckman giving Harry pointers, and Shanks standing at the head like Washington crossing the Delaware. Not that anyone but Harry would get the reference.

The port was completely empty of vessels, which was a bit strange. It was still summer in East Blue and some merchant business was to be expected at a small port town. As the men climbed ashore and the boat was tied to the dock, Harry took a good look around. The few houses in view from their position were boarded up and the streets deserted. Likely someone saw the pirate flag and alerted the townspeople to hide.

"You there," Shanks spoke up, talking up to a tree. "Mind telling us where we can find a tavern?"

From between the branches swung a small boy who nimbly jumped down and looked at Shanks with undisguised wonder.

"Are you guys pirates?"

"Yep," Shanks grinned, "scared?"

The boy shook his head so fast it was blur of black hair. "No way! I'm strong!" he stated with the usual confidence of young boys. "Also, Grandpa hates pirates, shishishi" he added, laughing and with a sense of finality that made it quite clear he thought anything his grandfather disapproved of was OK in his book.

"Dahahaha, most people do."

"Luffy!" came a worried cry. From behind a building came a young woman in a dress and apron and a handkerchief to keep her hair back. She quickly snatched the boy, Luffy, up and held him close as she crouched in front of Shanks, clearly fearful of his intentions.

"What do you want with our town?"

"Ms. Makino, they just want to find a tavern. You should bring them to your place! I bet they'd love your cooking. I do, and speaking of food, I'm hungry!"

The woman, Makino, seemed torn between answering Luffy and keeping an eye on the dangerous characters before her. Instead, Shanks spoke up to try and reassure her.

"Luffy's right. I'm Shanks, by the way, and this is my first mate Beckman. We're pirates exploring East Blue and were hoping we could dock here for a bit, maybe enjoy some food and sake," he explained, shaking a pouch of gold coins to emphasize his honest intentions.

Makino looked wary, but certainly more willing to talk things out a bit. She looked down at Luffy who was pouting a bit at being ignored and whispered, "Luffy, why don't you go ahead to the bar and wait for me there."

"But Ms. Makino, I want to talk to the pirates!"

"You can talk to them at Partys, alright? Now run along." With a sigh, the boy obeyed and left.

Makino turned back to Shanks with a determined expression on her face.

"Why did you come here? Windmill Village is hardly the richest town of East Blue, or even Goa Kingdom."

"I like small towns," Shanks replied, tilting his hat back to look at the clear skies. "Small towns are friendly and serve the best food and sake. Oops," he started, reaching a hand out to Harry and pulling him aside. Beckman stepped towards the other direction at the same time and Spaz, well, he was exploring the tree Luffy had just vacated and wasn't paying much attention to the conversation.

"Careful Kid," said Shanks, before stepping himself aside as well just as a gunshot rang out.

A middle aged man approached with a pistol in his shaking hands.

"Makino, move away from them," he yelled out.

"Mayor Wool Slap!" Makino exclaimed, her gaze darting desperately between Shanks and the Mayor, afraid of the pirates' reaction to the sudden attack.

"Mayor, huh?" Shanks said, "Great! So you'd be the person to talk to about docking here, right?"

"We don't appreciate pirates coming to take over our village," the mayor responded, glaring from behind his round glasses.

"No one said anything about taking over," Shanks protests.

Beckman cuts in. "How about we talk this over a drink?"

Whether it was because Makino put a hand on his shoulder or because of Shanks and Beckman's words or rather, as Harry was more inclined to believe, he felt there was no better option in the face of such dangerous enemies – Beckman had his trademark oversized rifle resting on his shoulders and his usual cigarette between his teeth – Mayor Wool Slap huffed and put his pistol down and followed Makino who smiled and gestured towards the road ahead. Harry pulled Spaz out of the tree and followed along.

"Shanks!" came a voice as soon as the door to the bar swung open, revealing Luffy sitting on a stool in front of the counter, legs swinging and arms waving in excitement.

"Hey there, Luffy!" Shanks waved back, walking over to sit next to his fan.

Makino walked behind the counter and fetched a bottle of sake and cups as the Mayor, Beckman, Harry, and Spaz joined the pirate captain on stools in front of the counter.

"So," Makino started with a cheerful smile since the Mayor was busy watching the Shanks with suspicion as he entertained the wide-eyed young boy with tales of pirating.

"Shanks is your captain?" she asked, placing a shot glass in front of each man and pouring a shot of sake for them.

"He's my captain," Beckman cleared up with a nod of thanks as he picked up the glass. "We're the Red Hair Pirates. These two here are Potter Harry and Spaz. We picked them up in West Blue and they're basically just tagging along for the adventures."

"Oh?" Makino questioned, refilling Beckman's glass. "I didn't know pirate ships let people who aren't pirates themselves on board the ship."

Harry grinned. "Well, I think Shanks wouldn't mind if we decided to join his crew, but Spaz and I aren't too comfortable at the idea of becoming pirates just yet."

"Hmph," the mayor finally interjected. "There's nothing about being a pirate to be proud of. You're better off staying as you are."

"Perhaps."

"So, what is it exactly your pirate crew wants with us?" the mayor directed at Beckman.

"For now we'd just like to have a place to dock for the night, maybe stock up on a few supplies. If possible, it'd be great if we could figure out some way of making this place a temporary headquarters, no longer than a year. It's been a long time since our last trip to East Blue and we'd like a place to come back to after expeditions to relax and store our findings. We'll pay for any food or sake we consume while here, of course, and a fee for storage space. What do you think?"

The mayor sipped his drink slowly as he thought it over.

"Neh," Spaz spoke up, bored by the proceedings. "Why are the docks empty?"

"Hmm," Makino hummed, "we did used to be a port town, but a few months ago a sea king settled by our coast land."

"A sea king!" Spaz gaped, "how? Why?"

"Actually, I'm surprised it didn't bother you. We aren't sure just why it's here or how it got here, but it certainly has quite a nasty temper. We think it's probably territorial and so it drives off just about every ship that comes too close to the shore."

"I could chase it off for you," Shanks offered.

"Wow!" Luffy exclaimed. "You can take on a sea king?"

"Sure! No problem, I've got a few sea king friends and enemies of my own in the Calm Belt," Shanks grinned.

"That's very kind of you, but no thank you," she said, shaking her head. "The last boat that docked at our port had its rudder torn to pieces. At this point, none of our usual trading customers will come back even if you did drive it away. It was a bit of a bother for some time, but the village is adapting to be self-sustaining now and the sea king drove off two pirate attacks for us so its presence isn't without its benefits," Makino concluded with a smile.

"I imagine such a drastic change wasn't easy," Harry commented. Trade was the basis of port towns. To suddenly have to produce everything needed on their own could easily cripple a community under certain circumstances."

"We aren't completely blocked off. Small deliveries like seed packets can be ordered from Goa by Mail Coo, though, of course, we can't trade for them, we can only pay in Beli," Makino explained, her brow furrowed as she mentioned Beli. The town was probably tight on cash.

The mayor sighed and put his empty glass on the counter, his expression upset with the reminder of his town's situation. "We don't want any trouble."

But we do need the money was the unspoken statement hanging in the air.

"Of course," Beckman acquiesced amicably. "It wouldn't be a very good base for us either if your village ends up being attacked because of our presence here."

"No longer than a year," he grunted. "Makino," he nodded before leaving the bar.

"So you guys are staying?" asked Luffy, his eyes sparkling.

"Yep! This place is our new headquarters," Shanks exclaimed with a hearty pat on the boy's shoulder, "you'll meet the rest of my crew this evening."

"Awesome!"

Shanks gave Harry a smirk and a saucy wink to which Harry rolled his eyes. Honestly, Beckman did half the work.

A/N: Yeah, the last part was a little awkward to write but I'm hopeful that it's believable as well as canon compliant as far as can be gleaned from the limited knowledge given about Luffy's hometown and Shanks' actions while there.

Replying to reviewers without accounts:

marc: Thanks :)

r: I'm glad! I hope you have no problems following without getting alerts.

GhostofDVDS: Sorry, no slash between Harry and Shanks. I have no plans for any slash in this story beyond some future innuendos involving Okamas. However, I do have a darker version of this story in planning where there will be angst, torture, an initially Super Harry, and possibly slash with Shanks in exchange for a much (very much) looser attachment to the canon One Piece world. If you (or anyone else) are interested, let me know and I'll see if I can kick start that into existence in the next few weeks.

jboat: At the moment, the ghost is a, uh, secret... (one that so far I am not "in the know" of either .) But hey, so far every owner of that Straw Hat that we know of is a grinner, so I thought it fit well. Thanks for the review :)

325 reviews as of today, 3/21/11

Thanks everyone :)


	22. Chapter 22: Blue

A/N: Sorry for the delay! I can't wait 'til summer vacation when I'll have more time to brainstorm and stuff.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Blue

That evening the Red-Hair pirates filled Partys' bar, ordering beer by the barrel and feasting on Makino's fine cooking. Slowly, the rowdy laughter and partying attracted a trickling of visitors from the village who were quickly charmed by the easy-going atmosphere.

Makino's smile and Luffy's obvious admiration of Shanks went a long way in gaining the village's acceptance of their presence. By the end of the night, nary a frown was seen on the faces of anyone leaving the bar except Mayor Wool Slap and Luffy, who was quite upset that Makino still insisted on sending him off for bed at the usual hour when there were pirates around. Already he had asked Shanks no less than three times if he could join their crew, only to be dismissed with loud guffaws at the idea of a six year old becoming a pirate.

Harry competed in no less than three drinking competitions, soundly defeated a dozen pirates to the cheers of the audience before the uncomfortable sensation of his blood burning cut into his alcohol-induced high and he waved off the cries of teasing insults as he stumbled out of the building into the night.

"Had enough already?"

Harry squinted a bit, seeing the vague outline of the Straw Hat ghost floating upside down in front of him. Blinking rapidly, he finally gave up and searched through his bottomless robe pocket for his glasses.

The ghost perked up at this and stepped down onto the ground.

"You wear glasses?"

"Mmhmm," Harry slurred. "Magic'sbit preocupi'd righ' now, 'tis," he explained, bobbing his head up and down.

The ghost cocked his head to the side in question.

"Preoccupied with what?"

"Burnin' alc'hol, 'course!" Harry walking down the road with an awkward gait, "'snot safe ta black out or pass out, y'know?"

"In that case," the ghost replied, floating after him, "isn't it also dangerous to be drunk in the first place?"

Harry frowned. "S'no fun ta never get drunk!" he declared, gesturing wildly. "I can act'vate it whenever, but it kicks in by 'tself when I drink enough I get 'mnesia."

The ghost frowned a bit, probably because Harry's speech was difficult to understand when he started chopping off syllables from words like amnesia but continued his questions.

"That's pretty neat. So, when you use magic to burn alcohol, you can't use it to fix your eyesight anymore?"

"Yep!" Harry agreed cheerily, "'Mione called it ritual magic, 'cause it's used for rituals. She was a smart one, yeah? Said people only gots so much of it, see? So when the poison burnin' ritual kicks in, it steals what I use to power the ritual for fixin' my sight."

Somehow, Harry winded his way back to the dock and found Spaz hanging in the same tree from earlier.

"Didn't feel like party'ng?" Harry asked.

Spaz startled before recognizing Harry. "Harry! You're drunk aren't you? You sure look like it, yes sirree. I was looking at the stars, they're really pretty you know, and this tree is a great climbing tree, I like it, and I, uh, wasn't hiding or anything, no sirree, just hanging around, you know, 'cause I, uh,"

Harry frowned. "Slow dow', Spaz, I can't think that fast righ' now."

Spaz's mouth snapped shut and Harry watched him squirm a bit before digging a bit through his pockets once more, this time for a rope.

"Do me a favor?" Harry asked, trying to tie the rope around his waist with fumbling fingers.

Spaz stared. "You're going swimming? Right now?"

"Wanna see if I can swim drunk," Harry explained, looking down satisfied with the messy double knot he managed before tossing the rope end to Spaz and walking down the wooden dock.

Spaz followed dazedly, holding the rope.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

"I think I'm supposed to be the one asking that," Spaz pointed out.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "Guess so. Er, whatever," he shrugged, and jumped into the sea.

The first thing Harry noticed was the cold water's sobering effect.

The next thing Harry was pleased to notice was that his anti-water force field was maintaining itself just fine even though he was drunk and his ritual magic was being siphoned into burning the alcohol in his blood.

The following thing Harry realized was that, being drunk, he wasn't quite coordinated enough to swim properly. The subsequent thirty seconds were filled with annoyance teetering on the edge of panic as Harry wondered if he could cast a bubble-head charm safely while intoxicated when he was pulled up onto the dock by Spaz.

Harry lied back on the dock, his soaked clothing creating a puddle around him as he felt his blood continue to burn and stared up at the stars.

Just as he felt clarity begin to return, Harry heard Spaz speak up.

"Neh, Harry, that was really stupid."

Harry snorted. "Drunk people do lots of stupid things, Spaz. At least I didn't try jumping in alone."

Spaz didn't have anything to say to that and silence fell on the two for a moment until a breeze blew by.

"Anoh, aren't you cold, all soaked like that?"

Harry blinked a few times. He did feel a bit chilly now that Spaz mentioned it, but having a magic buffer preventing direct skin contact with the water seemed to go a long way in saving him from the worst of the effect.

Flicking his wand, a drying charm and cleaning charm instantly evaporated the water and vanished the salt.

"Cool," Spaz grinned, then lied back on the dock next to Harry.

Harry grinned, tucking his wand into his sleeve and his glasses into his pocket.

The two friends slept under the stars, content with the silence.

"Oooiii!"

Harry woke up with a start, wand in a hand and a spell in mind before he recognized Shanks' voice.

"Com'on you lazy duo! We're setting sail; the rest of the crew already ate breakfast at Partys'."

"What?" Spaz whined, "not fair! I want breakfast too!"

Harry chucked a fruit from his pocket at the back of Spaz's head, watching with amusement as his friend's hand came up instinctively to catch it. He'd've made a great seeker, Harry thought to himself and chuckled at the image of Spaz on a broom. Knowing Spaz, he'd love the experience.

"Where are we going?" Harry called out to Shanks.

"Pirating, of course! If we're lucky we'll pass by a luxury cruise or some cocky pirates or marines," Shanks grinned, as if anticipating a good workout. "'Course, I wouldn't mind dropping by some of the deserted islands hereabouts. Windmill Village doesn't have many resources for us to buy so we'll have to restock on food and lumber the old fashioned way." Shanks explained, walking off towards the many docked rowboats, leading his straggling crew who were suffering from varying degrees of hangover.

"Make sure to watch out for a sea king," Beckman warned the crew. "A rather territorial one has settled along this coast. It didn't attack us yesterday, but that could be for any number of reasons. Don't kill it if you don't have to, though, since it protects the village."

With nervous nods, the pirates returned to their ship.

Harry once more joined Spaz, Shanks, and Beckman in a boat.

"Neh," Spaz asked between bites of the pink fruit, "why do you think the sea king has been so quiet so far?"

"It might be that the only reason it was so territorial before was because it was mating season for that particular species. If the season is over, it's only natural it would stop attacking everything that comes into its territory," Beckman suggested.

"Or," Shanks offered with a grin, "it can smell Zeb and Frank from our ship. I'll bet it's a pretty small sea king, then, if it's scared off just by the scent of other sea kings."

"Or," Harry added, "it got lucky with some careless sailors yesterday and now he's sleeping to digest his latest meal."

An awkward silence fell amongst the four as Spaz stared wide-eyed and Shanks and Beckman suppressed their laughs.

"Er, sorry, that was a bit morbid, wasn't it?"

"Dahahaha," Shanks laughed, giving up on holding back his reaction. "It's as good a reason as any! As long as it doesn't decide to eat my crew." A dangerous gleam shined in Shanks' eyes as he concluded.

Harry shuddered. For a moment, he almost felt sorry for the sea king if it ever chose to try and attack one of the Red Hair Pirates. Perhaps the sea king was simply being smart, having instinctively sensed Shanks' strength, and was staying away for good reason.

"Captain! Marine ship abeam to starboard!"

"What can you see?" Shanks yelled back, striding across from the bow to starboard railing for a better look at where the lookout directed.

"I think they've spotted us Captain! The marines are running around on board!"

"That's strange," Shanks frowned, "I'm pretty sure there's still a standing order for the marines of the Blues to ignore documented Grand Line pirates. Is it possible they didn't recognize us?"

"One of the marines is yelling into a Denden mushi – I think he might be calling for reinforcements. Should we engage, Captain?"

Shanks shrugged. "What do you think, crew?"

A loud roar of approval rose from his men as they fingered their weapons, adjusting gloves and headwear as they licked their lips in anticipation.

"Then let's show these marines just what it means to be a Red Hair Pirate!"

Beckman approached Harry and Spaz. "You two had best get down below. If a marine from the photography branch shows up you might be misidentified as pirates and end up with bounties."

Nodding, Harry and Spaz retreated to the hold, making sure to stay out of the way of any pirates working the cannons. As the first cannon shot flew from the marine ship to land in the ocean a few meters from the ship, rocking the men onboard, Harry's vision flickered.

_"Warrant Officer Blue!" screams a snail, no, a Denden mushi that this world uses as phones. "We've found Red-Hair!"_

_ A satisfied grin. Blue eyes gleam with anticipating glee. The marine officer flings open his window and, glimpsing the battle within sight, kicks off out the window._

The vision dissipated, leaving Harry with a strong sense of foreboding.

Harry looked at Spaz whose expression was caught between boredom and apprehension.

"Hey, Spaz, er, how would you feel about watching the battle?"

Spaz perked up. "How?"

Harry grinned and, grabbing his wand, tapped his friend's head while casting a disillusionment charm, chuckling at Spaz's reaction to the cold trickle while casting the same charm on himself.

"Whoa! That's awesome, Harry, yes sirree, I can barely tell we're here, we're almost invisible and that's really neat!"

"Yep! Let's go!" Harry replied, grabbing hold of his friend's wrist and maneuvering them back up on deck.

The two scrambled out of the hold and were greeted by the sight of pirates carefully preparing the ship for when they'd be close enough to the marine ship it across planks. The air was tense with the Color of Observation and the ship rocked at random intervals when a cannonball landed too far away for Beckman to fend off but close enough for the waves it produced to slam into the ship.

Keeping a hold of Spaz since they were both disillusioned and thus extremely vulnerable to being lost, Harry scanned the horizon in search of the marine base he saw in his vision. He finally located a small island in the distance towards the North.

As he continued to stare, trying to guess how long they had before reinforcements arrived, Harry's eyes widened as a small speck appeared, growing steadily into a human shape.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry startled at Spaz's voice. He quickly loosened his grip that had tightened unconsciously in his shock and rubbed his eyes.

Nope, still there, still approaching.

"Er, Spaz," Harry started, "look up at the sky a bit to the right of the ship's bow. What do you see?"

Spaz shifted to look in the direction Harry indicated and gasped. "Someone's coming!"

Closer and closer the human approached, gradually growing until one could see his marine uniform, his black hair streaming behind him and puffing around his face as he kicked himself forward off the air itself, and eventually his striking blue eyes.

Suddenly the air grew tenser and Shanks, who had been directing his crew, turned to look at the newcomer.

Within seconds, the flying marine landed on the marine ship, silencing the panicking marines who had never fought the likes of Shanks before and were failing quite miserably in the engagement.

"Warrant Officer Blue!" a single marine uttered, identifying their sole back-up.

Ignoring the panic and destruction, the marine officer locked gazes with Shanks.

"Red-hair. You have no idea how pleased I am with the idea of having a chance to face a Grand line pirate."

"Oh?" Shanks asked. "I thought the Marines of the four Blues weren't authorized to attack established Grand line pirates."

The man grinned. "Exactly. I normally would have to leave you alone, watch you pillage this sea while waiting for the Marineford to respond to my report of your presence. But you, you're in possession of marine property and I'm here to get it back. If that means I need to kill you first, well," the grin grew wider and teeth ground together, "so be it."

Kicking off the ship followed by three kicks at the air, Blue launched himself at Shanks' ship. As soon as he landed, he seemed to disappear from sight, only to reappear beside a pirate which he'd take out with a swift chop to the back of the head before disappearing again.

Five pirates were down in less than three seconds before Shanks drew his saber and lashed out at what seemed like empty air until Blue reappeared, stumbling and arm bleeding.

"Oho," Blue chuckled, "you have a good eye." Lifting a leg the marine kicked out, his moving limb nothing but a blur as a crescent shaped wave of distortion flew from the kick towards Shanks who deflected it off his saber with a clang.

As if encouraged by this, Blue kicked several times more at varying angles, releasing curved lines of different sizes flying at the pirate who deflected each one with practiced skill, his expression barely changing.

Finally there was a pause in the kicking. The leg came back down. Everyone watched with tense anticipation for what the marine officer would try next when suddenly a shout cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Johnny! Just what do you think you're doing, making me work while I'm on vacation?"

In a small rowboat powered by two marines with paddles stood a marine officer. The sun reflected off his graying blond hair framing a pale, effeminate face with the same striking blue eyes as the Warrant Officer.

The marines immediately dropped everything to line up along the railing of their ship.

"Salute!" The leading marine called out. Every marine raised their hands up to their foreheads and chorused,

"Vice Admiral Blue!"

A/N: So... yeah, I'm hoping for some nice action and stuff in the next chapter or two as well. Maybe a revelation or two.

Thanks everyone for your response about the other story. It seems a lot of you are interested so I think I'll go ahead with it, but as you can see, I'm having some procrastinating issues with this one already, so it will be at least a month before I post anything for the darker/slash version.

Thanks so much to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings !

Review replies:

loler: It's coming :)

less: Thanks :)

appleslvr: I'm working on it :)

jboat1: No problem. As for following canon, yeah, this story will. I think the lost arm holds a lot of symbolism and I don't want to mess with that. The other version though, heck, I'm not sure just how veered off it'll end up being.

Me: I'm glad you approve :) There will be no yaoi in this story other than the canon jokes about Okama. There may eventually be some hetero pairings (Harry/Robin), but not for awhile and nothing too serious.

365 reviews as of today, April 18, 2011

Thanks everyone!


	23. Chapter 23: Six Styles

A/N: Uhhh... yeah. Sorry.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Six-Styles

"Vice Admiral?" chorused the pirates in question. What was a Vice Admiral doing in East Blue? Harry frowned as well. From what he remembered of the readings and several government pamphlets extolling the virtues of joining the Marines in the war against pirate scum, Vice Admiral was a very high position, second only to Admirals and, of course, the Fleet Admiral. Vice Admirals almost never left the Grand Line.

"Rock-Aniki," the warrant officer nodded towards the newcomer's direction. Harry raised his eyebrows, though none could see as he was still disillusioned. These men were brothers? Other than the striking blue eyes, the two couldn't look more different. This did, however, somewhat explain the high ranking officer's presence. Visiting family during vacation was not unusual behavior.

"Johnny, what have I told you? Call me Roxy," his brother returned, winking lasciviously in Shanks' general direction.

"Rock-Aniki," was the ground out reply, "forgive me if I choose not to encourage your disgusting okama tendencies despite Uncle's indifference."

The vice admiral frowned prettily. "You know Father sees you as a son more than a nephew. And I wish you wouldn't compare me to that rather revolting revolution. I've yet to meet a single okama of the so called 'Okama Way' with a decent sense of fashion or beauty. Although, Ivankov has a very nice body when he desires it."

"Enough!" the younger Blue marine snapped. "What are you doing here, Aniki?"

The elder snorted, holding a hand to his nose daintily as if to cover-up such an unlady-like sound. "What am I doing here? The better question is just what do you think you're doing here? You know the rules about marines from the four Blues attacking documented Grand Line pirates. You've got the latest handbook memorized by now."

"I sent a report," came the stiffly delivered explanation. "Red-Hair is in possession of marine property so I deemed it necessary to attempt retrieval of it myself."

The elder Blue's eyes narrowed. "Don't think you can fool me, little brother. I'll bet you haven't even told the pirate just what it is you're looking for, has he dear?" The latter part of the question was directed towards Shanks, accompanied by fluttering eyelashes. The man had a pretty face, true, but it was still a bit disturbing considering his well-built stature.

Shanks grinned in amusement over this strange conversation that had brought the battle to a standstill. "'Fraid not, Vice Admiral," he answered with a tilt of his straw hat and a wink. Harry wanted to smack him. Flirting with gay male Vice Admiral Marines when you were an infamous straight male pirate captain was not a good idea no matter which way you looked at the situation.

"There, you see?" Rock 'Roxy' Blue sniffed, tossing back his hair so it caught the gleam of sunshine. "Now, I don't particularly care what you were thinking, nor if you even plan on backing off permanently, but you're leaving off for today. I received orders, _during my vacation time,_ from headquarters to tell you that they don't approve of you going after a Yonkou just for some property."

"Yonkou? What the hell are you talking about?" replied Johnny Blue, finally yelling with irritation at the unwelcome interruption. "And it's not just any property. That bastard got a hold of a – !"

"I don't care! As for being a Yonkou, that's his new nickname in the Grand Line Paradise and West Blue. I guess it hasn't spread out to these parts yet. Not to mention, there's still some debate as to whether or not it's four, or three, or five emperors. Now stop stalling!"

Grumbling, Warrant Officer Blue jumped into the air and kicked off until he reached the marine ship. "We're retreating. Let's go."

"Hai, Warrant Officer Blue!" chorused the marines, and the ship sailed off.

"So sorry about all this lovey," the remaining Blue piped up from his place in his rowboat. "I hope we never see each other again," he continued, with a tight smile, "so long now." The two low-rank marines paddled the rowboat away as the vice admiral glared at the Red-Hair pirate ship with his piercing blue eyes until he was too far away to see anymore.

"Alright, men, time to clean up the ship," Beckman called out, and began to direct the crew around to patch holes, swab the blood off the deck and railings, and move the injured to better resting quarters.

"Heee," Shanks hummed, wiping his blade of blood before sheathing it, "that was interesting. A Vice Admiral in East Blue who ignored me and a Warrant Officer of East Blue who's stronger than any marine ought to be while still left behind from Grand Line recruitment. I wonder what style that was."

"Rokushiki."

Harry started, then realized the answer came from Spaz, who was still disillusioned, and he quickly cast a finite to bring them both back into view.

"He's a practitioner of the Six Styles," Spaz continued, his voice worryingly hollow. "It's an art that's used to train CP9 agents and requires strength normally only found in the Grand Line."

"Six?" Shanks asked. "Well, there was the jumping in mid-air – "

"The Moon Step," Spaz named.

"And the kicked blades of air pressure," Shanks continued.

"Vacuums, actually, called the Storm Leg; and his quick travel is powered by Shave – all techniques based on explosive leg strength. I don't think he learned it traditionally. I can't imagine any of the teachers leaving the Grand Line and all of them frown upon being too dependent on a specific style."

"Awesome. Wonder why we never met anyone before who could do stuff like this? What are the other styles, Boy?"

Spaz blinked a few times, taken aback by Shanks' enthusiasm, then shook his head a few times. "Um, well, there's Paper Drawing and Iron Mass for defensive purposes, and the Finger Gun is another attack."

"Oo-oo, show me the Finger Gun!"

"Uh…"

"Oh come on!" Shanks exclaimed. "You can do it, right?"

"W-well, it's been awhile…" Spaz stuttered.

"No problem," Shanks reassured cheerily, "try on that board over there." He pointed at a lightly charred wooden plank standing against the railing after being replaced just then by a pirate on repairing duty.

"Alright," Spaz gave in. He walked over to the board and stopped in front of it, about five feet away. Settling lightly into a loose fighting stance, he breathed in deeply, stared at the target, then exploded into a series of rapid movements as he lunged in at the board, his arms a blur for all of five seconds, before retreating back to his original position, breathing in a second breath.

Harry watched quietly, a little worried about Spaz's behavior. On the one hand, this martial art clearly held some bad memories for his friend. On the other hand, it was good for him to see Shanks' easy-going acceptance and assumption that Spaz was capable of the same special techniques as a strong enemy from less than an hour ago. When he saw the results of Spaz's demonstration, however, he quickly intervened.

"Alright, old man," Harry butted in, striding over to grab the beaten up board, "you've got a crew to captain and we've got a meal to cook so make sure everybody's ready for lunch in an hour, yeah?"

Crossing the threshold into the kitchen, Harry tossed the board into the air and incinerated it with an Incendio. It didn't matter much. Harry, Spaz, and Shanks were all well aware of the finger sized holes piercing cleanly through the wood in a very particular pattern. Had Shanks been standing in front of that board, bullets piercing through the pirate captain's vitals would create that exact same picture.

"Lots of fighting just now followed by lots of repairing and cleaning up, so we've got a crew of very hungry people to feed and only an hour to do it," Harry thought aloud, before turning towards a noticeably silent Spaz. "Any ideas?"

For a moment, it didn't seem like Spaz heard him, but he eventually spoke up.

"Neh, Harry, just now…" he trailed off, not quite sure how to refer to the mass of events that filled the morning.

Harry sat up onto the counter and leaned back against the cabinets before responding.

"Spaz, moving in midair and throwing deadly intangible attacks across a distance are all things I've seen before. I am having a difficult time wrapping my mind around the fact that such things are possible through pure physical means, but other than that, I don't think it changes anything. Neither of us knows anything about each other's past and I don't mind, really. I'm willing to listen and give advice if you feel like talking, and I won't be upset if you ask questions though I won't answer them all. Otherwise, all I can say is, don't worry about it, alright?"

"The pirates…"

Harry snorted. "I turn immaterial and so far none of them cared to ask why. I've gone chameleon, like I did with us both just now, in front of the captain and the first mate and neither asked how. I've taunted a Yuda and changed your hair color" here Harry eyed Spaz's hair that was still an electric yellow "and no one's confronted me yet. Only Farkas seems to even notice it's at all unusual, and he's over it already. In fact, the only person who seems to be worried at all is me! Merlin's beard, if none of this bats an eyelash I can't imagine the crazy things they must've seen in the Grand Line!"

Spaz frowned, still unconvinced. "Rokushiki is different, though. The Six Styles are the trademark of Cipher Pole No.9, a multi-purpose group, an assassination group, that doesn't exist, a shadow intelligence committee, working for the World Government to solve problems with less than legal means, through violence, through killing people that the old men on top don't approve of!" he bit out.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, smiling sadly. "Recently disillusioned, hmm? "

Arms crossed defensively over his chest, Spaz turned his head away.

"Bloody hell mate, I don't think Shanks gives a damn. Hell, I don't think Shanks has ever heard of that Cipher Pole 9 group. Just avoid such provoking demonstrations in the future and it'll be fine."

Spaz grinned sheepishly, a light blush of embarrassment rising in his cheeks. "Yeah, sorry. When I saw the marine using Rokushiki, I imagined myself in his place and uh, catalogued the target areas of his opponent."

"Pfft," Harry huffed. "I think no one else noticed. Shanks would, 'cause it's his body. I noticed because of my habit of analyzing threats. Besides, the evidence is gone now."

"Do you think any of the pirates would be uncomfortable though, that I use a martial art of the enemy?"

"Spaz, as fighters, I'm sure they understand the difference between an enemy and an enemy's attacks. If it becomes a problem, we can leave."

"But you – "

"But nothing. Now help me with lunch. I'm thinking ridiculous amounts of carbs and meat, like spaghetti and meatballs, with garlic bread. Maybe a pot of turnip and spinach miso soup for the injured?"

Spaz perked up. "I'll peel and chop the turnip!" he volunteered, and bounded out the door towards the large fridge in the meat room holding the remainder of their fresh vegetables.

"Grab a pound of beef and some spinach while you're at it!" Harry called after him and smiled at the enthusiastic affirmation.

The infamous topic of conspiracy theories hidden away between the pages of less reputable books he managed to get a hold of in the skimpy bookstore back in West Blue – the nonexistent unit of the World Government's intelligence agency, Cipher Pol No.9. To think that Spaz could confirm its reality. He was strong, and now Harry knew why. Likely, such a secret organization recruited from isolated islands in the Grand Line, training large groups from an incredibly early age to gain superhuman abilities when mastering the frightening Six Styles before accepting superior individuals onto the team. Spaz, it seems, ran away. Would that be a problem in the future?

Harry pounded the spaghetti dough harder than strictly necessary. With the training from Gregory, he didn't request further spars, but he might ask tomorrow. Maybe, the next time they land, Harry and Spaz could go someplace out of the way, and Harry could take a look at the remaining two styles. It's always a good idea to have a bit of understanding on future enemies.

"Harry! Got 'em," Spaz called out.

"Great," Harry smiled, "we don't have much time so I'm going to speed things up a bit, alright?" he informed Spaz, setting the dough aside to rise for half an hour. With a flick of his wand, the turnips and spinach were clean. "Peel, please, I'll chop them after."

Wand raised in the air, several things happened at once as Spaz tried to take it all in without cutting himself peeling the turnips. A cabinet opened and out floated several large loaves of French bread that Harry sliced in midair before they landed on a platter next to a saucer of butter that had similarly floated out of the kitchen fridge. The beef was placed in a bowl and mixed with ground pork as well as regularly sprinkled with a train of spices that were circling above Harry's head.

"Butter the bread, please," Harry asked Spaz when he noticed the peeling was done. Another flick had the peeled turnips diced and thrown into a pot magically filled with water along with spinach, spices, and a quarter of the meat, hand rolled into balls. Spices magically rained on the slices Spaz finished buttering at the same time Harry filled another pot with water and instantly brought it to a rapid boil. The risen dough was quickly rolled out manually and sliced magically before placed in the boiling water.

The multitude of tasks occurring all at once in the kitchen was astounding and Spaz helped roll meatballs on autopilot, slightly confused about the seemingly random allotment of tasks to magic and, uh, well, done normally.

"Most of the power you see me use is called magic and is heavily dependent on spells with specific results," Harry explained, searing rolled meatballs in a frying pan. "Making things float is pretty versatile, but some things are beyond me. I can throw cutters, but I don't know any spells delicate enough for peeling vegetables, nor any spells for shaping foods like rolling dough flat or making meatballs. There is a spell for baking bread," Harry noted, taking this opportunity to toss a yellow spell at the buttered and spiced bread slices that seemed to shrivel slightly and harden, its edges browning slightly, "but it kind of sucks, so I try to only use it for crisping bread. The oven always results in a better taste for the initial baking. Boiling water magically doesn't matter much as long as there's nothing in there already."

Spaz's eyes shone with excitement. "This is so cool! Neh, neh, Harry, what kind of magic can you use in fights? 'Cause a magic fight sounds awesome, yes sirree! Tell me, please Harry!"

Harry laughed. "We can show off our skills later. Shanks said we'd land at some deserted islands to stock up, yeah? That sounds like a good time."

Spaz nodded enthusiastically. The hour flew quickly, but lunch was finished in time due to Harry's liberal use of magic. The pirates ate hungrily to Harry's pleasure, and things only got better when Beckman announced that they were running low on timber and thus a deserted, forested island was next on the crew's priority list.

"So, Rokushiki, the Six Styles. The Moon step is where you kick off on the air so explosively you can actually move in midair. The Storm Leg is where you kick through the air so rapidly the air moves forward fast enough to create a vacuum in its wake. Shave is similar to the Moon step except since you're staying on the ground, you can move at speeds most humans can't keep up with," Harry summarized from what he saw the Marine do and what Spaz told Shanks. "Then the Finger Gun is using the index finger to pierce holes similar to bullets. And you mentioned the other two techniques were for defense?"

"Yep," Spaz replied. "Paper Drawing is relaxing your body so that it floats around attacks. Basically it's the art of not taking any hits. Iron Mass is stiffening your muscles, ideally until it's as tough as iron. Contrary to Paper Drawing, Iron Mass is the art of not taking any damage, and most practitioners can't move when using it."

"Most?" Harry asked, ducking under a branch before finding a suitable clearing. The two had begged off of collecting timber with the rest of the crew from Shanks under the pretense of searching for fresh fruits as well as having no experience harvesting something suitable for ship repairs.

"Well, there's one family famous for Iron Mass Kenpo. How they manage to use Iron Mass while moving is a very tightly guarded secret but incredibly valuable. The heir to the family is almost always a high ranking member of CP9," the teen explained, going through some warm-up motions when he realized Harry intended to use their current location. "So, should I just run through the styles?"

"That'd probably be best, so I can see them all first hand."

"I haven't mastered any of them, so you know. Everything you see is watered down a lot from what CP9 members – or even the Marines if yesterday was any indication – especially Lucci-sama…" Spaz furrowed his brows. "Well, hopefully you never meet him, no sirree," he ended with forced cheeriness.

"Soru."

Harry blinked in shock as Spaz vanished in a blur, barely able to keep up with the cracking sounds and blurred figure from around the clearing when his friend reappeared ten seconds later, leaves in his hair and holding a small bundle of twigs he snapped off.

"Rankyaku."

A sharp kick that lifted dust from the ground left a deep gouge in the tree before Spaz.

"Geppou."

Kicking off from the ground, Spaz took several steps in the air before falling back onto the ground in a roll.

"Shigan."

The gouged tree was attacked again, this time in a similar pattern as Harry saw back on the ship, though with minute differences in the placement of holes.

"For the next two, you'll have to attack me."

Harry thought for a bit. "Will it be fine if I throw rocks? I'm not very good at hand to hand combat."

"Sure."

Harry conjured a rock and tossed it over.

"Kami-e."

As if floating on a breeze, Spaz lightly stepped out of the way. Harry tossed a few more rocks before finally throwing something a bit more unpredictable.

"Avis Oppugo." A flock of sparrows were conjured from the tip of Harry's wand, flying towards Spaz who's eyes widened but otherwise did nothing but continue to duck and weave through the attacking birds. Upping the attacks, Harry conjured half a dozen rocks and tossed them at the distracted teen, simultaneously vanishing the birds.

"Tekkai."

Choosing not to duck the flying rocks, Spaz stomped hard into the ground in a solid stance, arms crossed in front of his face as the rocks bounced off his body, his skin showing no sign of damage.

Harry whistled. "Merlin, that's impressive."

Spaz shook his head sheepishly. "Soru, shave, should be faster, and I don't have enough stamina to maintain it very well, and I also have some issues controlling my direction," he explained, pulling leaves out of his hair.

"My Rankyaku, Storm Leg, is messy, as you saw from the dust I raised, and also weak. That tree should have been sliced clean through. I also can't maintain Geppou, Moon step, very long or land softly and my Shigan, Finger Gun, can't pierce bone yet, and even masters of just Tekkai, Iron Mass, not the Kenpo, can attack by gathering momentum first and, and," Spaz rambled.

"Whoa there, Spaz," Harry chuckled, "I get it. Still, I can't imagine ever pulling off any of that."

Spaz perked up. "Will you show me magic now?"

Harry grinned, digging an arm into a pocket up to the elbow as he rustled around his robes, looking for the perfect demonstration prop.

"You bet."

A/N: It's summer vacation! Whoot! I still have a really time consuming internship, but the lack of homework is very welcome. Hopefully updates will be regular again for the next few months, and please do keep an eye out for my new story. It will feature eventual Harry/Shanks slash, a more powerful Harry, more violence, open cursing, and eventual angst.

Sorry about the return of the cooking, but I thought a magical cooking scene would be kinda fun.

I apologize to all my wonderful reviewers to whom I did not respond for the last chapter. There were some link problems.

Annabelle: Thanks :)

Grim Reaper: Yes, he will eventually.

399 reviews as of today, 6/14/11

Thanks everyone :)


	24. Chapter 24: Kick

A/N: Hey, sorry for the delay. On with the story!

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kick

Harry was of the firm belief that magic was limitless as long as one had enough power and knowledge at his or her disposal. Power was something Harry was gifted with in spades, but after Hermione's death, the amount of knowledge available to him was extremely limited.

Hermione was a brilliant witch. She was also caring, affectionate, loyal, determined, a hard-worker and prepared for anything. But above all, she was brilliant. Her death had been a hard blow for Harry personally but was also a devastating strike against the war effort's capabilities and efficiency. Often, during the last weeks of the war, Harry struggled to find spells for certain situations and despaired of how he took his good friend's knowledge for granted.

Thus, Harry was rather disappointed to find himself in a very similar situation right now. When the war was over, magic was the last thing he wanted to study, so though he learned a lot of things about a lot of things, he was realizing once more that his magical knowledge was still extremely limited.

This was a world without magic and thus with little to no defense against it. The implications of that were overwhelming, but Harry was ill-equipped to properly take advantage of it.

To put on a show, however, would be easy, despite following such an impressive demonstration of the body's potential. There simply was nothing quite like the versatility of magic in the world of a muggle, and Harry loved it.

From his robe pocket, Harry pulled out a simple cloth doll which he placed on the floor before cancelling the shrinking charm with a simple finite. It was an enchanted mannequin "programmed" to realistically reflect the effects of certain spells on a human through complex illusions – Auror issue equipment; Harry received this one as a gift from Tonks. As an Auror toy, it was unfortunately limited to Ministry approved magic, but it was still useful.

"Battle spells," Harry explained, "have specific effects on living beings and are designed to be cast on human opponents. It'd be too hard to demonstrate them all on you, as well as dangerous, so this dummy here will do it for us. It can't do everything, but it's enough to give you a general idea of what magic is capable of."

"Okee-dokee, Harry, I understand, yes sirree, what can you do Harry? Show me a spell, show me!" Spaz pleaded, bouncing on his toes in anticipation.

Harry chuckled as he pressed his wand against a rune on the doll's forehead.

"Actum."

Like a puppet on strings, the dummy lifted up onto it feet.

"First off," Harry started, conjuring a wand for the dummy and placing it in the dummy's hand, "the easiest way to place the enemy at a disadvantage is to disarm him."

Holding his own wand out, Harry chanted, "Expelliarmus." The dummy's "wand" flew out of his hand towards Harry, who caught it, while the doll's body flew backwards a few feet.

"Another good way to render someone harmless is to remove their ability to move. Petrificus totalus." The dummy's arms and legs snapped rigid, its body stiff and straight as a popsicle stick, teetering a little on his motionless feet before falling backwards with a dull thump.

"Finite incantum," Harry intoned, before continuing. "Those two were very rarely used back home because a simple Protego shield spell could block them, but that's not a problem here, I suppose."

"Amazing!" Spaz exclaimed, "you could be practically invincible with those two spells alone!"

Harry shook his head, "it doesn't quite work that way. I'm sure you've noticed my athletic ability is quite poor. I've almost no experience with hand-to-hand combat, so anyone too close would have a definite advantage. I can be overwhelmed by sheer numbers and caught by surprise in an ambush, though there are alarm wards I can set over my sleeping area. I'm pretty decent at dodging bullets since the concept is similar to dodging spells, but I don't know any shield spells for blocking solid projectiles if it's ever necessary, and conjuring a solid object to use as a shield is slow with the dangers of scattering even more projectiles from the smashed shield. I suppose I could use a banishing charm, but without some serious practice doing it, I'd rather not risk depending on it in an actual fight."

Spaz wrinkled his nose and pouted slightly. "That's a long list of weaknesses. Are there any stronger spells with more destructive effects?"

"I was hoping you'd ask," Harry grinned, a devilish glint shining in his eye. He searched for a decent sized rock and enlarged it with a simple Engorgio. "Careful there, alright? That Paper trick of yours might come in handy right about now."

Standing in front of the rock, which was now more of a boulder about Harry's height, the wizard wielded his wand with a sharp jab. "Bombarda maxima!" The boulder exploded outwards, chunks flying in every direction, partially obscured by the dust raised in the explosion's wake. Several decent sized stones rocketed towards Harry who instantly sliced his wand through the air with firmly stated 'Diffindo's, before a wide ranged 'Ventus' blew the remaining projectiles away leaving Harry ruffled but unscathed.

Spaz gaped at the remaining evidence of the destruction. He bent down and picked up one of the sliced rocks, examining the impossibly smooth cut left from the impossible power of magic.

"Damn," he stated, having nothing else to say after such a display.

"Hahahaha," Harry laughed, enjoying his ability to shock his friend into swearing before reaching back into his robes and pulling out a broom. "Enough watching. Want to try flying?"

Eyes widening until they were comparable to dinner plates, Spaz nodded rapidly, his electric yellow hair frizzing out around his face in a cloud with his speechless enthusiasm. Harry could only laugh as he swung a leg over the broom before offering a hand to Spaz.

"You'll have to ride with me. It takes magic of your own for the broom to respond to your directions."

Spaz clambered on behind Harry.

"Hand on tight," Harry warned before shooting off into the sky, laughing aloud as his friend gave a whoop behind him, one arm clinging tightly as the other pumped a fist into the sky.

The pair returned with bags transfigured from large leaves filled with fruits they had located with Point-Me charms and obtained from the tops of trees with summoning spells and monkey-like tree climbing skills. No points for guessing who did what.

Harry had also managed to gather a few herbs that looked familiar from Potions lessons, lectures by Hermione, and general explorations through the woods. He wasn't sure if they were quite the same in this world, but he figured it shouldn't be too dangerous to test a few out on the rats hiding in the corners of the ship.

"The triumphant return!" Shanks teased with his usual grin shining from under his straw hat.

Harry's eye twitched slightly as he tried to ignore the ghost's attempts to make him laugh at the weird faces he was pulling. Not quite sure how successful he was, Harry walked past with a playful push at the pirate captain and teased back.

"Jealous of our success?"

"Dahahaha! Just hungry, Kid. I hope you have plans for them in dinner tonight."

Harry cocked his head to look back in confusion.

"I thought we would be going back to HQ after this?"

"Eh," Shanks shrugged, "I think we can take it easy in getting there. We're mostly going to drop off anyone who's still too injured to fight and maybe try and convince the village doctor to look over them for us."

"That's right," Harry continued, "I never did ask. Do you have a doctor on this ship?"

"Not really," Shanks explained. "We all know first aid and a couple men in the crew have their specialties in certain areas but no designated doctor."

Harry gave a dramatic sigh. "No chef, and no doctor either. I don't know how you managed to survive so long, old man, I really don't." And with that, Harry and Spaz walked back to the kitchens, sharing an amused look at Shanks' indignant protests of being called old again.

The trip back to Windmill Village was surprising eventless. The ship docked the next morning and the two men who were still too injured to walk were escorted onto land by a volunteer to watch over them. The pirates left soon after, not wanting to attract trouble to their headquarters when they were still unsure of the marine's intentions towards them.

It was just as well.

"Red-Hair!"

Shanks tilted his hat back and gazed steadily into the blue eyes of the marine.

"Why, Warrant Officer, what a pleasant surprise," the pirate grinned.

Harry rolled his eyes. Some surprise. Their lookout spotted the ship a good quarter of an hour ago and Shanks, the confrontation junkie he was turning out to be, had chosen to stay put.

"And what are you doing here on this fine day?" Shanks asked.

The marine glared but replied nonetheless, probably remembering the embarrassment yesterday when his older brother – cousin? – discovered he didn't at least attempt to inform Shanks of his 'official' intentions.

"Our intelligence discovered that you are currently in possession of marine property that you lifted from another pirate known as Zoldeo of the Seven Ships. Do you deny this?"

"Zoldeo, huh?" Shanks scratched his head, "it doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid."

"Going senile already, old man?" Harry teased.

He and Spaz stayed on deck this time around. Beckman had explained that last time he had expected the marines to recognize the flag and proceed to send an alert around the seas to ignore them, barring violent attacks on settled islands. This, obviously, did not happen, and it was simply not practical to send them below each time a ship was spotted in their vicinity. Instead, the crew was told to keep an eye out for photographers and confiscate cameras when possible or to inform Yassop if they could not. Their sharpshooter would snipe any camera to bits.

"Oi," Shanks complained, "what do you mean by that, you brat?"

"Zoldeo of ze Seven Sheeps, I vill defeat you and take ze zea 'orse as my prize!" Harry declared in a butchered French accent with a flourished bow.

"Dahahahah! That guy! Man, he was weird. We took his flag, I remember. What else did we get from him, Beckman?"

Beckman shrugged. "He wasn't a particularly rich pirate; mostly owned gold coins and a few wooden chests. You'll have to ask Lucky Roo for more details. We haven't even bothered to take inventory of it yet."

"Heee, that's a problem."

"Regardless," the marine cut in, annoyed with the carefree banter the pirates were displaying in his presence, "you did loot the ships of Zoldeo. If you cannot hand over the item, then we will simply have to find it ourselves. Either you let us search or we will sink your ships and sift through the remains."

"That's no way to talk," Shanks scolded. "The least you could do is tell us what it is you're looking for."

Harry snickered at the throbbing vein popping from below the marine's right eye. Warrant Officer Blue quickly locked his gaze onto Harry and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"Who are you? You're not one of the documented members of the Red-Hair pirates. Yet another foolish youth who has chosen to become a scoundrel, hmm?"

"No actually," Harry smiled pleasantly, "me and Spaz here are hired hands. Surely working for a living doesn't make us pirates, Johnny-boy?"

'Johnny-boy' snarled. "Consorting with known pirates is an imprisonable offence, young man."

"Oh? Well, in that case, we're not hired hands, merely civilians who've been kidnapped by the big, bad pirate. Surely you must see that we're merely victims who must be rescued by a fine marine like yourself, Warrant Officer," Harry replied eagerly.

"Yes sirree," Spaz piped up, "it was really quite horrible, sir, Mister Marine sir. He took us from West Blue and there's been no end to life-threatening positions he's put us in like storms and geysers shooting us up over mountains, and monstrous whales, and sailing the Calm Belt, and riding Sea Kings, and being chased by Yuda, and being attacked by other pirates!"

"Surely," Harry took over, "you don't expect a pair of fragile boys like us who have no previous criminal record to voluntarily subject ourselves to such situations?" he asked, pouting slightly in a childish manner.

"No sirree," Spaz confirmed, "Mister Marine, sir. Neh, we haven't done anything wrong, have we?" he pleaded, eyes wide and innocent.

The pirates all burst into laughter over the pair's act and the marine's rapidly reddening face in response.

"Fine!" he yelled, "once you've stepped a single foot out of line I'll have your faces attached to bounties faster than you can scream 'justice!' As for you," Blue spun back to point at Shanks, "what's your answer? Will you surrender or will you fight?"

Shanks smirked. "Fight of course."

And all hell broke loose.

Harry and Spaz sat atop of the cabin roof, disillusioned but armed. Harry was quite sure that Spaz, as a runaway from CP9 training, would be very adverse to the idea of his photo being taken and delivered to Marine Headquarters for a bounty, and getting a bounty himself would not be conducive to staying helpful to his friend.

On the other hand, neither of them were comfortable with the idea of doing nothing now that the enemy was stronger than those previously encountered. Warrant Officer Blue had clearly taken the day before to search for the more skilled of the infantry and sailors to join his pursuit of the Red-Hair pirates and their infamous captain. Thus, Harry apparated them out of the battle and gave Spaz a pile of pebbles he could use to distract the marines. The wizard was quite satisfied with shooting off a few well-timed tripping jinxes.

"There won't be interruptions this time, will there?"

Harry turned his gaze towards the side of the pirate ship facing the marine ship. On the railings stood Shanks and Blue who were currently staring each other down. The cheeky comment had come from Shanks who had drawn his saber and stood loose but ready.

The marine sneered, uncomfortably reminding Harry of his former potions professor.

"Not to worry. Rock-aniki came purely for appearance sakes. The lazy ass has no devotion to his job and merely did the mere minimum necessary to duck accusations of ignoring Mariejois orders. We'll fight properly today."

A familiar clash of metal blade cutting into a vacuum rang through the air as the marine threw the first attack before jumping into the air with what was now known to be the Moon Step. Running through the air after an appreciable leap from the railing, Warrant Officer Blue quickly found his way above Shanks' head where he paused and threw another Storm Leg downwards at the pirate. Shanks easily deflected it while the marine took the time to land on the pirate ship, quickly taking off in a burst of speed with Soru.

For Harry, the man might as well have turned invisible and he was suddenly very grateful he hadn't done something as reckless as declare himself a pirate in front of the marines. If this was the level of power he'd have to face, he was far from prepared.

Spaz, it seems, had a slightly better idea of where the marine was, his eyes flickering rapidly around the rowdy deck, occasionally latching on tightly to the target before losing him with a huff.

The marine didn't bother attacking Shanks' crew this time around. Every three to five seconds, he'd pause, throw a quick Storm leg, and Soru away again, being careful to randomize his angle of attack.

For a minute, it seemed this strategy to wear down on his opponent was working, as occasionally Shanks did not react fast enough to block or dodge the flying blades and would receive a shallow cut. Shanks didn't look especially worried, however, his face remaining mostly pensive as if he wasn't sure what to make of this fight.

Harry was a little confused by this reaction. Personally, he had never truly enjoyed a fight except for the occasional spars with trusted friends, nor felt anything but disdain for a fight with no purpose, so perhaps this was why he couldn't interpret Shanks' expression. Shanks had proven to be a man of great strength, yet a carefree attitude, who enjoyed the rushes of adrenaline life provided in risks and fights. Was he being bored by this opponent who seemed so utterly out of Harry's league? Was he disappointed in the marine's attitude that didn't seem to lend itself to playful banter?

All questions ceased instantly at a seemingly innocuous occurrence. A vacuum blade flew towards Shanks' head and as he leaned back to dodge, the rim of his Straw Hat was caught and torn. Harry shivered when immediately, the tension in the air rose with the presence of Haki. Even the marine stumbled in shock at the reaction he had inadvertently provoked.

The pirate captain raised a hand and pinched at the tear between hi s fingers. For split second that stretched for hours, nothing happened; then Shanks raised the hat backwards and glared, displaying his three trademark scars that ran jaggedly across his left eye.

The remainder of the fight was very simple. With his Color of Observation permeating the area like a dense fog, it mattered not where the marine escaped with Soru, Shanks quickly found him and lashed out with his saber, forcing his opponent to draw his own blade.

A Japanese katana with a tempered line in the pattern of the sea's waves, it was wielded with sharp skills but little talent. The pirate easily held the marine in a constant defensive stance, while Warrant Officer Blue could do nothing but glare and block the flowing stream of attacks.

As an amateur swordsman himself, Harry could tell that Johnny-boy wasn't bad. His lines were sharp and clean, textbook clean, actually, which was probably why he was losing. Shanks' attacks flowed fluidly in wild but beautiful movements with powerful slashes powered by his two hands gripping firmly on his blade's long hilt.

Backing the marine up against railing, Shanks finally disarmed the man with a delicate but firm sweep from below, ending his blade with the point lightly resting against the marine' neck.

A pause. Then with a rapid twirl of his body, Shanks threw Warrant Officer Blue over the railing into the ocean with a swift kick and a wide grin.

A/N: Yay! Shanks is awesome :) I would like to take this moment to thank my beta again! She stuck with me after my impromptu hiatus and all, yeah? Thanks PyromanianBlackWings!

Some of you have probably noticed my new story - Pirate Conqueror - is up! Please go check it out; I'll have the next chapter posted this Saturday.

Review replies:

Grim Reaper: Not abandoned, no worries!

Shinigami Clara: Sorry for not replying to your review before - the link wouldn't work for some strange reason. Shanks will still lose his arm, sadly, and the ghost's identity is still undecided. As for Smoker vs. Shanks in the future, it should be interesting, since Smoker is about Shanks' age :)

428 reviews today, the last day of June, 2011

Thanks everyone!


	25. Chapter 25: Contemplating the Civilian

A/N: Hey there! It's been awhile. Sorry it's kinda short.

Chapter 25

Contemplating the Civilian

I sigh around my lollipop as I watch my brother make a fool of himself on the screen I hooked up to my Visual Den Den Mushi.

_"…Rock-aniki came purely for appearance sakes. The lazy ass has no devotion to his job and merely did the mere minimum necessary to duck accusations of ignoring Mariejois orders. We'll fight properly today."_

Well, I thought to myself, I couldn't exactly deny that. My interest in the World Government and the Marines as a way of life was nothing compared to my brother's obsession. I'm probably the only Vice Admiral who can't use Haki, not having the ambition necessary to unlock it. However, Johnny simply had a rather off-putting personality which wasn't conducive to attracting the promotions he likely deserved.

The fight was short. I was a bit disappointed, to be truthful, having expected Johnny to perform better than that, but he lost his temper, underestimated his opponent, and was eventually taken down with a kick that blatantly mocked his attack style.

I chuckle a bit, sucking thoughtfully on my rapidly shrinking cherry treat and reach over to the Visual Den Den Mushi to rewind a bit before turning the snail to face away from me. It is disturbing, in my opinion, to watch the creatures mirror the facial expressions of those talking.

_"Surely, you don't expect a pair of fragile boys like us who have no previous criminal record to voluntarily subject ourselves to such situations?"_

What a loaded question. For one thing, simply working for pirates, regardless of the reasoning behind it, was enough to be kicked out of the Marine training program in most cities, but the Red-Hair Pirates had such a terrifying reputation of power that the young man had a point in being able to beg off guilt for his situation.

The man intrigued me. Both 'civilians' intrigued me. When the pirates docked at that deserted island yesterday I was there, and I watched the two boys break off from the rest of the crew and stop in a clearing. What I saw was beyond words.

The younger boy was interesting, of course, because of his knowledge of the Six Styles. I had learned as part of a tentative pilot program of introducing the style to the rest of the marines and taught it to my younger brother as a favor. Whoever this young boy was, he was likely a citizen of an island in the Grand Line used for CP9 recruitment.

Oh yes, I know of CP9. A full dozen marines were informed of the intelligence agency's existence at the same time we were told of the powerful martial arts style we were chosen to learn. In the end, it wasn't terribly interesting. So our government had a shadow sector, oh well. I am a little curious as to how the boy escaped without anyone knowing. As far as I know, the marines had sent out a quiet alert to keep an eye out for a long haired, brunette girl who had training in the basics of the Six Styles, but nothing on a blond boy. Considering his ridiculously vibrant yellow hair, it would surely be mentioned in any report on him. The best of luck to him, though. If no one was looking for him, he probably wasn't important, and his mastery of the styles wasn't particularly impressive either.

But the elder one. I saw magic that day. Magic. A shiver runs down my spine as think the word again, my mind replaying the incredible display of destruction brought about by a few spoken words. The power to create explosions out of nothing. The power to slice cleanly through stone. The power to blast enough air to hold back flying rock and dust. The power to disarm and immobilize. The power to fly on brooms.

Brooms. I snort then grimace at myself for this bad habit of mine. But really, I saw a wizard flying on a broom, and it seemed so utterly effortless. This was beyond any Devil Fruit ability, beyond any martial arts style, beyond the capabilities of Haki, and color me Blue but I think I could easily grow obsessed!

It helped that he had such nice features too. He's completely not my type, what with the pale skin and dark hair, but I do like those eyes of his and his lithe body. If he was girl, Father would've taken him home.

"_There won't be interruptions this time, will there?"_

I look up at the screen, frowning uncomfortably at the sneer I saw on my brother's face. I just don't know what to do with him. Growing up he was almost always in my house since his father was killed in the line at duty in the Grand Line and his mother wasted away in grief. My father did his best to raise the both of us, but he never quite knew what to do with John, either.

The family of Blue is based in Mariejois and is split into two branches known amongst our blood-kin as the Houses of the Sky and the Sea. I grew up pampered and praised as the very epitome of the sky with my shining hair, fair skin, and warm personality. I can remember being a young teen, showing off my natural talent at wielding the family's way of the sword, while John, still a child, watched expressionless from the shadows.

If I am the sky, John is the sea. John is a dark figure with a cold personality, almost always brooding and quiet but with a horrible temper when stirred up. He did not speak well with others, always too serious, too stubborn, too harsh and blunt with his words. The unforgiving depths of the ocean – that is John.

I watch his swordplay fail miserably against his chosen opponent. Traditionally, the Blue family was a house that followed the path of the sword. My father gave John the Katana of the Sea while I inherited the Katana of the Sky, but John has no talent with the sword. When the marines came to recruit members from our family, John practiced obsessively to earn the opportunity of starting out in the Grand Line, and I even tried to pull the few strings I could, having been given that exact privilege a few years before. It didn't work, however, and John was forced to start from ground zero at a small marine base in East Blue.

I rewind again.

"…_what's your answer? Will you surrender or will you fight?"_

It was a stroke of genius on my part, lending my subordinates to Johnny so they could take a Visual Den Den Mushi aboard and record the fight. Again and again, I play through the few seconds after Shanks declares his decision.

"_Fight of course."_

Each time, the two civilians vanish and I cannot find them again. I wonder, for a moment, to what extent that ability could be used. I can hardly imagine how devastating it would be if entire armies could be vanished into thin air. If the World Government ever found out about this power - !

If they - ? I chew thoughtfully on the lollipop stick, leaning back to watch the sword fight between my brother and Red-Hair again.

I've met Dr. Vegapunk before, the so called genius scientist in the employment of the Marines. He's brilliant, there's no doubt of that, and he's not a bad person, either. In fact, he made a rather good impression on me, not too talkative, but friendly and not at all the stereotypical "mad scientist" type who cackled randomly and showed an obvious lack of morals. Nevertheless, he was dependant on the Marines and the World Government for funding his projects and what would those old men on top do if they knew about magic?

I toss the chewed up stick away in the trash, pointedly ignoring my brother's expression on the screen. Despite the desperation, frustration, and fear of his situation at being cornered by Shanks, the hatred for the pirate captain was clear. Hatred of one who believed in Absolute Justice, not because he believed it was right, but because a pirate killed his father and he desired vengeance under the guise of justice. He was, quite frankly, a perfect servant for the World Government.

"_The lazy ass has no devotion to his job…"_

Well, no, I don't. I'm a marine because that's how my life planned itself out and I never bothered looking around at the other options. When your family was based in Marine Headquarters and served exclusively for the Marines for dozens of generations, 'other options' simply wasn't an option. In another year or two, I'd find a woman who doesn't mind my unsettled sexual tastes to be my wife and bear the Blue sky an heir before I retire and spend the rest of my days teaching the next generation. Johnny… well, I'd be pretty impressed if Johnny doesn't kill himself in a suicide mission his first week sailing the Grand Line.

If he ever gets to the Grand Line, that is. I don't mind so much when he insults me, but if he continues that kind of behavior with the other Vice Admirals, he'll never be nominated for a promotion and relocation out of East Blue.

"_There won't be interrupt-"_

I quickly pause the scene, excited beyond measure. In the background, slightly to the right of the screen where pirate captain and marine officer were facing off, a marine was falling, seemingly having tripped, yet there was nothing to trip over. It wasn't just any marine soldier either – it was one of my marine soldiers.

"Korr!" I yell out, jumping to my feet and rushing to the door, jerking it open in an entirely too flustered and inelegant fashion. "Korr!"

"Yes, sir?"

Standing guard outside the door was Korr, a good man if a little boring at times, who followed orders and knew what he was doing in a fight.

"Come in," I invite him, before pointing to his image on the screen, still frozen mid-fall. "Do you remember what happened there?"

There is a moment of silence, though whether of embarrassment at his unusual clumsiness or merely of the man taking a moment to cast his memory back for the specified event, I haven't a clue. Korr was simply impossible to read.

"I do remember an incident from around then, yes sir. There was a strange feeling that something had caught around my ankles, yet looking around afterwards revealed no possible suspects. From this video, it seems there still is no visible culprit for me tumble, thus I can only conclude the event was not caused by a physical obstacle. Will that be all, sir?"

"Yes, yes, of course," I agree off-handedly, staring at the screen, "thank you, Korr."

"Of course, sir." He snaps off a salute despite the fact I would not see it, and he leaves, quietly closing the door behind him and presumably continuing to guard the room as long as I remained within it.

Was that also magic? I rewind the film several times in earnest, picking out even the smallest details that looked slightly out of place. There were at least another half-dozen strange "trips" like the one Korr suffered, and a good dozen stones that appear out of nowhere only to hit a marine square on the nose, distracting them so that they were easily dispatched by their pirate opponent. I wonder briefly if the stones were courtesy of the elder or the younger.

It doesn't matter, I suppose.

"_No sirree, Mister Marine, sir. Neh, we haven't done anything wrong, have we?"_

They haven't, have they? But if I gave this video to any high ranking marine, the pair would receive bounties quicker than one could say ten million beli simply for the danger they represented if not for their invisible defiance of marine authority. I'd never be allowed to pursue them though, since they'd likely stay in East Blue longer than my vacation time and there was a backlog of more infamous pirates to capture in the Grand Line.

Pursue them? I unwrap another lollipop, chuckling a bit at the endless stream of questions I was suddenly asking myself before musing over my last train of thought. I have never actively wished to pursue a criminal before. My brother pursued each pirate with passion while I chased criminals I was assigned to because it was my job. Sometimes it was easy, sometimes harder, but if I'm not on the job, I loathe expending the necessary energy to deal with conflicts between the marines and the infinite existence of the pirates.

That's why I was so upset when I received the call from Mariejois to stop my brother from foolishly attacking Red Hair. There was a reason I chose not to go home – it was too close to Marine Headquarters! I had expected a quiet break from work seeing as East Blue is the weakest ocean and my brother is probably the strongest Warrant Officer under Marine employment. Kami above but things just don't work out right. For a brief moment I hated both Red Hair and my brother. It certainly was fun disturbing Johnny with some gay flirting and I enjoyed a good glare at the pirate as my subordinates rowed me away yesterday.

He's not my type either.

But because of the call, I saw magic. Magic. I still couldn't wrap my mind around it. I've never felt so fascinated with a subject nor so disappointed I'd have to leave a person behind for my job. No, I wouldn't be informing anyone of what I discovered because regardless of who knew, I'd never have the chance to find out more.

Unless I quit.

A/N: So, yeah, Vice Admiral Blue will become a more major character in the future because it was simply too boring keeping magic a secret for much longer, haha.

Annabelle: Thanks for the review :)

Thanks again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings.

451 reviews today, July 19, 2011! Yay!


	26. Chapter 26: Rubber Fruit

A/N: Woot! Moving on. Warning, there's angst.

Chapter 26

Rubber Fruit

Upon the defeat of their highest ranking officer, the remaining marines chose to retreat and sailed off after fishing their officer from the ocean.

As the crew again went through the process of cleaning up the ship, Shanks stared forlornly at the tear in his straw hat.

"Oy, Roller," he called out. An old man with short white hair and a heavily scarred face looked up.

"Again, Captain?" Roller sighed, exasperated. "You can only patch a Straw Hat so many times before it becomes more patch work than straw."

"But - !" Shanks protested, a whining tone in his voice as he pouted like a child.

Harry took the chance to drop the disillusionment charm over him and Spaz as he jumped down and plucked the hat from Shanks' hands.

"Not to worry," Harry reassured, "I can take care of it."

With a muttered 'Reparo' as the wizard drew his hand along the tear, the hat was good as new when he handed it back.

"Awesome!" Shanks exclaimed. "Thanks."

"No problem," Harry replied, turning to look at Spaz who was jumping down from the cabin roof as well. "Time to make lunch?"

"Yes sirree, Harry, let's go, what's for lunch today Harry, huh, huh? Can ya make the spaghetti and meatballs again, oh, oh can ya, please, Harry? It was really awesome last time, yes sirree, it was, and I wanna try helping with the dough this time!"

"Sure you spaz, just calm down. Let's get out of the way, then, so the pirate can finish cleaning up the ship," Harry chuckled as Spaz bounced beside him. Apparently watching Shanks' fight had gotten him pretty excited.

Spaz raced to fetch the ingredients as Harry finished cleaning up from breakfast. There must have been some Shave during the trip because Spaz returned in moments, balancing flour, meat, vegetables, and oil in cartons and barrels.

Harry quickly lent a hand in setting them onto the counter when he noticed something in his close proximity with his friend.

"Well look at that," the wizard exclaimed, reaching a hand out to pinch Spaz's cheek, "you're growing some fuzz!"

"Um, uh, yes, I guess, I – uh, growing, yeah, something," Spaz muttered embarrassedly, perhaps at the lateness of this sign of puberty, nervously scratching at the area in mention.

Harry peered at it from an angle. "It's growing out brown, though. Should I change it yellow too?"

"Oh, uh," Spaz exclaimed with mild surprise, "I suppose so, Harry, 'cause it'll look awful strange with two colors growing, yes sirree, except, um, I wasn't sure if I should keep it?"

"You'll look different," the 'and different is good considering your runaway status' remained unsaid, "but I'm sure you can ask around the pirates if they have a razor they'll let you use." Harry paused a moment, reconsidering what he just said. "On second thought, it might be more sanitary to just let me do it for you since there's a spell for that."

"I think I'll leave it for now," Spaz decided after a moment, "so, dough?"

"Sure," Harry smiled, quickly spelling the fuzz yellow before explaining the steps involved in making spaghetti dough and meatballs.

The Straw Hat ghost approached Harry that night on the deck at around three in the morning, sitting on the railing next to where the wizard was resting his head.

"That's two nights in a row now, Harry," the ghost stated, unusually solemn.

"There's been fighting two days in a row now," Harry replied wearily.

"You seem fine during the battles, though," the ghost wondered aloud, "and really, if you're going to stick around, this might be a problem later, since Shanks is a pretty infamous pirate. Anyone arrogant enough to think they stand a chance will want a piece of him, and he doesn't have Whitebeard's reputation to chase most of them off. Eventually, maybe, but not yet."

"Whitebeard?" Harry asked, somewhat familiar with the title but not entirely sure who it was referring to.

"Roger's old rival, currently known as the man closest to becoming the new pirate king. And don't change the subject."

Harry chuckled. "Sorry, mate, but I don't think there's anything I can do about it, really. The fights have been really amusing so far, nothing like those in my past, but they still trigger memories and so I get nightmares. For the past three years, I've been running away from them, but now? There's really nowhere left to run."

"I don't really understand that, the 'fights being different' part, I mean," the ghost replied. "Fights are fights, aren't they? Sure, no one's died yet, but it may happen at some point, and there've been plenty of injuries and flying weapons between us and enemies who both look down on us and hate us."

There was a pause as Harry wondered how to explain. "Hey Ghost, what do you think Shanks fights for?"

"For?" the ghost asked. "Well, for the freedom to enjoy the sea with his crew, I suppose. For the adventure, for the rush, for the thrill of battle and the rewards that follow."

"And the marines?"

"For their ideal of justice, for promotions to higher power, sometimes for vengeance, I guess, and I can't deny that they often fight to stop criminals from ruining the lives of innocent civilians."

"That's nice," Harry hummed. "I wish I knew what it was I fought for. For vengeance perhaps? Ten years I believed my parents died in a car crash driving drunk. Knowing an insane wizard Dark Lord killed them at the age of eleven seemed like a strange story of someone else's life. It's horrible, and I wish they didn't die, sure, but I never knew them. I don't know what I lost except maybe guardians that wouldn't lock me in a closet as punishment for burning the bacon. And in the end, how many parents have I stolen as part of the war effort, locking them away in Azkaban for crimes of treason or some such vague felony?"

The Straw Hat ghost hovered awkwardly, not understanding several parts of this strange story – Azkaban? Dark Lord? – but unwilling to interrupt for an explanation.

"For the ideals of good versus evil? Right over wrong? Like I understood that, either. The idea that hundreds of lives were dependant on me murdering a wizard with half a century's worth of experience over me and was considered a genius in school was terrifying – I often tried to just ignore it. And in the end? I lost my two best friends, all the people who fought with me an on the front lines are dead or insane, my girlfriend was murdered a week after the final battle, and the same stupid prejudices are taught to each successive generation in the pureblood families. And me? Three years of running, culminating in a stupid decision to commit suicide and Merlin be damned I'm spouting angst like some spoilt teen at the age of twenty-one."

Harry banged his head against the railing a few times before sinking to the floor, lying back on the deck to gaze at the stars. "Sorry Ginny, I did it again," Harry apologized to the night sky, wincing slightly at the scolding his mind conjured from how Ginny would have reacted to his pity party.

The Straw Hat ghost floated over, slowly tilting horizontal until he was parallel with Harry and looking down at the wizard with a quizzical expression before seemingly giving up on trying to understand.

"Shall we play Follow-the-Leader?"

Harry chuckled and sunk into his ghost form. "Sure. Do your worst."

The Straw Hat ghost smirked mischievously. "Heehee, try this!" Like a rocket, though he had no such conceptions, the ghost shot off up towards the sky, whirling and twirling as his baggy clothes billowed from the movement.

Harry laughed and imitated the action shortly after, his robes poofing out a bit like a twirling skirt as he pursued the boy. "That all you got?"

The rest of the night was spent in distraction as the ghost tried to recall the mental limits of a living being while Harry tried to cross them with his ghost body. They zig-zagged through the masts before sliding into the wooden posts and riding up them like elevators to come to a gentle stop at the very tip, both leaning impossibly against the tip of the flag post, their feet outstretched in midair as they watched the sea begin to glisten in the sunrise.

"Thank you."

"Hah," the ghost exclaimed, "I'll stump you next time."

"Pfft," Harry snorted, "you haven't stumped me once since the first two times we played. Once I figured out how to fly through thin air without any support but my will, not much else is a challenge."

"I'll figure out something," came the assured reply. "It's just been too long since I was bound by your puny mortal limitations."

Harry smirked. "You forget I'm not a common mortal." With a quick twirl, Harry soundlessly apparated away, thus leaving behind a gaping ghost in favor of playing a quick prank on Spaz. He wondered for a moment if he could replicate the feeling of being dunked in cold water that seemed to so common among the ghosts back home.

When he managed to reappear on the deck still soundless, the wizard halted his train of thought in favor of pondering the new mystery of his sudden proficiency in silent apparation. Was it the lack of mass his ghost form held? In fact, the whole process felt like it took practically no effort at all. Why didn't the ghosts back home ever do it? Although, Harry couldn't remember any Hogwarts ghosts performing magic of any kind, so perhaps they couldn't since they didn't have a wand?

And yet, was apparition-as-a-ghost magic or simply another example of mind over matter? Surely limitations such as speed of travel shouldn't matter to a ghost!

"Hey, Straw Hat Ghost!" Harry called out. "You try it!"

The ghost grinned. "Just watch!" he called back, eagerly taking on the challenge. With a dramatic flourish he spun in place at his position by the flag for a few moments when suddenly, he vanished, only to tumble dizzily in front of Harry, laughing and whooping in excitement.

"Awesome!" the ghost exclaimed, before vanishing again to the other side of the deck, then high up over the masts, and again to reappear halfway through Harry's live-again body.

"You're not cold," Harry observed with interest.

The ghost cocked his head in question, pausing his explorations of his new ability at the strangeness of Harry's statement.

"Should I be?" he asked.

"Well," the wizard explained, "all the ghosts back home were freezing to the touch."

"Huh, well, it depends on the ghost really, I think. To be honest, I've not yet seen all the ghost types yet, though I've heard rumors of ghosts that can manipulate a person's emotions and I know some ghosts can hold onto their Haki for a period of time after their death to physically influence] the living world. There are, of course, also many ghosts that are visible to normal humans too, though none quite as solid as you. I don't know any freezing ghosts, though. Is that the only way you can tell ghosts from living people back where you come from?"

Harry furrowed his brow. "No, actually, ghosts back home are colourless and translucent. Strange," He murmured, looking absentmindedly at his ghost friend as the sun shone through his semi-transparent form. "Ah! Breakfast! The sun's already so high," he exclaimed suddenly, switching to ghost form and apparating to Spaz's hammock.

"Oh, Spaz…" Harry called out in a sing-song voice, his head rising through Spaz's chest. He barely had time to notice that the only thing he saw passing through was fuzzy darkness when Spaz blearily opened his eyes and locked gazes with Harry. "Boo!"

Spaz shrieked and tumbled out of his hammock, landing on the deck with a thump. Several of the surrounding pirates grunted a bit at the noise but soon turned over to continue sleeping, nearly immune to such mild wake-up calls in comparison to their captain's rowdiness.

"Harry!" Spaz exclaimed, before pouting a little at Harry's hysterical laughter.

"Oh Merlin," Harry chuckled, slightly breathless. "Alright, breakfast, let's go."

Breakfast came and went quickly, the pirates as hungry as ever. After their morning meal, Shanks directed his crew to sail back to headquarters while Beckman conducted inventory on their treasure from Zoldeo in search of the item the Marines were so interested in.

As the pirates piled into rowboats, Beckman entered one with Shanks – again with Harry and Spaz – a small wooden chest under his arm.

"This might interest you, Captain," Beckman stated with a smile, presenting the chest to Shanks.

The pirate captain flipped opened the lid and let out a low whistle. "This is it, Beckman, can't be anything else the marines want back so desperately."

Harry peered over Shanks' shoulder curiously. In the box was a large indigo fruit, somewhat reminiscent of a melon, decorated with curly S-shaped swirls.

"Devil fruit," Harry whispered, remembering his own blue, swirly fruit.

"Do you which one, Beckman?" Shanks asked, strangely not surprised by Harry's identification.

"It's in the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia, actually," Beckman informed his captain, taking out a book that was tucked in the cloth belt wrapped around his waist. "Paramecium type," he read aloud, lighting a new cigarette, "the Rubber-Rubber Fruit – gives the consumer's body rubber-like qualities including elasticity and high resistance to blunt attacks."

"Cool," Shanks grinned, "you interested?"

"No thank you, Captain. Actually, it might be a bad idea for anyone in the crew to eat it until we figure out how to anticipate an attack from the Sea King hiding in these waters surrounding our headquarters."

"You're no fun, Beckman. Pity about the being-unable-to-swim thing with Devil Fruits – it'd be kind of neat to have a rubber body, but I always did believe a pirate should be able to swim," said Shanks, closing the lid and placing the fruit down on the bottom of the boat.

"Shanks!" came an enthusiastic cry from the shore.

"Luffy!" the pirate called back with a grin. "Come and greet us!"

The small boy frowned. "I can't swim, Shanks. You hurry up and come! Ms. Makino is cooking lunch and it smells really, really good! And next time you go out, take me with you!"

"Dahahahah!" Shanks laughed. "Can't swim? What kind of pirate can't swim? You'd best give up, Luffy, and keep living quietly on this island until you're older, yeah?"

Luffy growled. "Don't treat me like a little kid! I'm strong and I'm going to be a pirate, Shanks!" he yelled at the infamous pirate captain.

"Dahaha," Shanks continued to laugh, "com'on Luffy." He jumped out of the rowboat that ground to a halt in the shallow waters. "Let's have some of Makino's fine cooking and I'll tell you about our latest adventure."

"Alright, sure!" Luffy chirped cheerfully, appeased by this offering.

"Oi, Shanks," Harry called out, "what about the fruit?"

"Hang on to it, will you Kid?" Shanks called back over his shoulders. "I'm sure the Marines haven't forgotten about it."

"Wow, the Marines!" Luffy exclaimed. "Did you fight the Marines this week, Shanks? So cool – I bet it was an awesome fight! Take me with you next time, okay Shanks?"

With Luffy's chatter and Shanks' bold laughter fading away as they walked off, Harry picked the chest up and shrunk it so he could fit it into his pocket. He stretched a bit and, once Spaz finished helping Beckman secured the rowboat, headed with the pirate crew towards Partys'. He was feeling quite hungry for some food made by someone other than him for a change.

A/N: So, like, I watched the last movie, and it was pretty cool, but I hated that Harry's eyes kept switching back to the actor's blue color instead of the canon GREEN! RAWR!

Anyways, thanks bunches again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings.

470 reviews today, July 27, 2011

Thanks everyone :)


	27. Chapter 27: Bounty Huntress

A/N: It's been awhile, huh?

Chapter 27

Bounty Huntress

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" The rowdy cheers and encouragement from the excited pirates filled the air.

Harry circled his opponent cautiously, lightly flexing his right hand around his katana and slowly twirling a heavy throwing knife around the index finger of his left hand to build up momentum.

"Beat him up, Dino!" came a cry. Luffy was watching with delight, enjoying his time on the pirate ship now that Shanks let him on board, even going so far as to have him rowed over in his own row boat in the mornings. "Show him pirates rule!"

Dino, a blond man with thin glasses and a dragon tattoo, responded to the young boy's cheer with a roar and charged at Harry with his katana held tightly in his right hand.

A diagonal slash approached Harry's chest, quickly blocked as Harry lifted his sword upwards, twirling his body a half circle backwards with the momentum and tossing his knife out at his opponent's shoulder. Dino dodged downward and lunged forward with his left foot, thrusting his sword towards Harry's neck. Harry sidesteps it and pushes the attacking sword downward, grabbing a dagger from around his waist and making as if to stab it into the pirate's arm.

The pirate turned his body by stepping his right foot backwards and to the left, moving closer into Harry, pulling his outstretched hand away and using his other arm to elbow the wizard in the back. Harry fell to floor with a grunt, but managed to roll away, covering his retreat with a few small, blindly thrown knives.

Dino dodged the knives easily and rushed forward as Harry rose into a crouch, bringing his sword up to block the rush-attack, falling backwards at the force of the attack. The pirate, moving too quickly with the inertia of his run, lost control, his sword scraping off Harry's as the wizard's sword was lowered.

Harry rolled into a somersault with his fall backwards, leaping up to attack Dino from behind, sword extended. The pirate skidded to a halt mere moments later, sliding around a half circle and bringing his sword up as he did so.

For half a minute, all was silent on deck but for the heavy breathing of the two men, Harry with the tip of a sword pointed beneath his chin and Dino with a blade laid against his neck.

"That was awesome!" Luffy screamed, pumping both fists into the air and jumping off the barrel he was seated on to dash towards the fighters.

The silence broken, all the pirates let out a cheer of approval at the fight, Shanks' laughter roaring in the background as Luffy chattered excitedly with his replay of the fight at the two men humoring the young boy with fond exasperation.

Finally Yassop took pity on Dino – who was having trouble keeping up with Luffy's rapid subject changes and praise – and Harry – who was being snubbed every two minutes or so whenever Luffy realized he was talking to the "non-pirate" – and led the boy away to watch a sniping demonstration, picking up an excited Spaz along the way.

"He's a cute kid, isn't he?" Beckman asked Harry, lighting a cigarette while leaning against his rifle while watching Luffy run off with Yassop.

"Very adorable," Harry agreed, "though he seems quite stubbornly determined to hate me." Yesterday, Harry had made the mistake of explaining to Luffy that although he was hitching a ride on Shanks' ship, he had chosen to refuse Shanks' invitation into his crew as a pirate. Luckily, Spaz was able to avoid the kid's fiery temper by wisely forgetting to inform the child of his own similar situation.

"Ha. He's got a strange obsession with pirates for such a young age. He probably just doesn't understand why anyone who has the chance to be a pirate would refuse," Beckman explained.

"A lot like Shanks, that way."

Beckman chuckled. "Yes, he's quite similar to the Captain. If you replace that black mop with a head of red it'd be quite a sight to see."

"Aww, come on Beckman, don't tempt me," Harry pouted, fantasizing slightly about the heart-attack it would give a certain blue-eyed Warrant Officer to see a Shanks mini-clone. However, he didn't want to startle the villagers too much. On a quiet island like this one, who knows what would happen if he openly wielded magic? Even the pirates refrained from visibly using Haki.

"Come on then," Beckman offered, "let's catch up with the others. I'm sure the show's over and now the Captain is partying again."

The two arrived at Partys amidst the anticipated loud noises of drinking pirates. Yassop was at the bar this time around, talking to Luffy.

"I've got a son, you know," he slurred, "about your age."

"Really?" Luffy asked. "Wow! Why didn't you bring him along to be a pirate with you?"

"Stuuupid," Yassop replied, "he was too young! I left him behind, and followed the call of the pirate flag! My wife's a real gem, letting me go like that."

The pirates playfully jeered at their prized sniper. "Shut up! Get a room! Lover-boy!" they called out.

A mock brawl broke out between Yassop and a bald man who had been making smooching faces, the other pirates cheering them on, spilling beer and sake everywhere in their enthusiasm, to Luffy's annoyance as his shirt was splashed.

Spaz started commentating for the fight for a few minutes, but eventually there was nothing to really announce but a jerky struggle on the floor with no clear winner. He made a noble effort, reporting so-and-so's dramatic leg twitch and his opponent's hand waving, but had to stop when laughter overtook him.

"Let's have some music!" Shanks ordered when the wrestling died down to a hopeless mess of limbs rolling around on the floor. "George, you got your harmonica?"

The bald man detangled himself from Yassop, lifting a hand and confirming with a grunt as he patted down his trousers in search of the instrument.

"And uh, well darn, Freddy's got a broken arm so there goes our fiddler. There's no piano either. Hmmm… what songs can we play with only a harmonica?" Shanks wondered aloud.

"Do you think Freddy would mind if I borrow his fiddle?" Harry asked, when it seemed like no one had any suggestions.

"Oh? Can you play?" Shanks asked.

"A little, if the melody is simple."

"Wonderful!" Shanks exclaimed. "Alvin, go ask Freddy for his fiddle. George, let's have a go at Binks' Sake!"

The pirates cheered and banged their tankards on the table in approval. Even Spaz seemed excited, having recognized the tune.

George played a simple but upbeat tune on his harmonica for Harry while Alvin fetched the fiddle. When the fiddle arrived, Harry picked out the tune with the bow for a bit until he played it smoothly enough for George to join in.

Shanks enthusiastically led the pirates to start the singing between gulps of beer. As Harry grew more confident, he filled in the pauses with some jazzy accompaniment, playing along with George's considerable skills on his mouth organ.

Luffy quickly picked up the lyrics and joined in on the chorus, and the pirates sang the evening away.

* * *

"Hup," Shanks grunted, lifting Luffy from his hiding place behind a barrel in the rowboat.

"Aww, Shanks, let me come this time!" Luffy whined, arms crossed and lips pouting as Shanks tossed him back on land by the scruff of his shirt.

"Sorry, Luffy," Shanks grinned unrepentantly. "We'll be back in a week or so; you can wait that long, yeah?"

The rest of the trip back to the ship was uneventful and when lunch time rolled around, the ship was sailing smoothly in search of a merchant ship or two to raid. The crew was running a little low on metal items like bullets, and some fresh fruits and vegetables wouldn't be remiss either since they didn't want to burden their little town headquarters too much with the sudden increase in food consumption.

It was mid-afternoon, with most of the crew storming two ships headed by a wealthy trader, when the ship was witness to an interesting visitor. Harry and Spaz were chatting together, sitting on the railing along the edge of the ship, ignoring the charging sounds behind them.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the stealing. He had broken many rules and laws during the war against Voldemort, including stealing, but it somehow seemed different. Back then, they did it for something, well, nobler, sort of, right? Except, when Harry nicked a loaf of bread from a baker while on the run, he sure as hell wasn't thinking of anything "noble" beyond filling his and his friends' empty stomachs. Perhaps survival was a good enough reason, and in the end, no one was going to die as a direct result of this raid.

The wizard snuck a peak behind him at the thin man trembling against the wall of his ship. With his display of garish gold jewelry piled before him in offering to the pirates, it was easy to believe he'd survive this small raid still financially sound.

Out of the blue, an adolescent girl – thin, with pixie-cut black hair and cloudy blue eyes – leaped up over the edge to balance on the railing next to them.

Reflexively, the two reacted to the unknown threat, Spaz leaping to stand up into a slight crouch. Harry rolled backwards onto the deck, one hand palming his wand while the other gripped onto a throwing knife. As an afterthought, he phased into ghost state, pleased that the girl would likely be unable to tell since his appearance didn't change between the two states.

"Hmm," the girl hummed in thought. "Black hair and green eyes – very pretty, blonde hair and brown eyes – rather unusual…" From the long cloth belt tied around her waist, the girl withdrew a stack of large cards of varying colors bound with a rubber band. Slipping the band onto her wrist, she quickly flipped through the cards. "Oh, there's one person with black hair and green eyes," she announced, raising the card up at eye level as if to compare directly with Harry's face.

With a few glances back and forth, the girl giggled. "No, definitely no, am I right?" She flipped the card over to let Spaz and Harry see. On the card was a picture of a muscular man with crew cut black hair, black stubble on a cleft chin, and tiny green eyes glaring out from the image.

"I'm Mona, by the way," she introduced herself, by now gathering a small crowd as a few pirates returning with boxes of apples and nails stopped to stare confusedly at the newcomer. "Mona Blue."

"Blue?" the pirates chorused, some a little nervously.

"Yep," Mona confirmed with a cheery grin. She cocks her head to the side, a little confused by the reaction until she clapped her hands in revelation. "Ah! You must've heard of my Uncles Johnny and Roxy! Is it true they're both in this ocean right now?"

"Uncles?" the pirates exclaimed.

Shanks strode from around the corner of the cabin. "Dahaha! The whole family's come to greet us, eh?"

"Aaa!" Mona exclaimed, pointing at Shanks and them shuffling quickly through her cards. "You've got a bounty on you!" she proclaimed, waving a card wildly in the air. "A red one, Kami-sama above, what have you done?"

"Red?" Spaz asked. "What's that mean?"

"My cards are color-coded," Mona beamed, "red means over two hundred million beli has been offered as bounty. What kind of ridiculous things does an East Blue pirate do to earn that?"

"My name's Red-Haired Shanks," the pirate captain introduced himself with a tilt of his straw hat, "and I'm a Grand Line pirate who spars regularly with Hawk-Eyes Dracule Mihawk. I think that scares a couple of the old men up there. And you, young lady?"

"Mona Blue, Bounty Huntress, pleased to meet cha!" she winked. "I'm only fifteen, but I've caught ten million beli bounty heads already, so watch your back! You're kind of cute, but don't think that'll stop me from trading in some of your crewmembers for bills."

"Dahaha! Well aren't you a cheeky one?" Shanks teased. "Alright, come on men; hurry it up with the boxes. Harry, perhaps you could cook up something special for dinner since we have a guest?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You just want there to be dessert today. I've told you, haven't I? I stopped making desserts everyday because number one, we were running out of sugar and butter, and number two, it's not healthy."

"Aw, come on, Harry! This merchant's carrying loads of sugar; I'll have the men bring some aboard."

"Actually," Spaz piped up, "do you have a butter churn on board? The cows have been pretty productive after feeding them with fresh grass this past week."

"Eh," Shanks scratched his head beneath his straw hat, "you'll have to ask Beckman, or maybe Greg."

"Mmkay," Spaz replied, and shot off eagerly with a nervous glance backwards towards the girl who was happily reorganizing her cards by hair and then eye color.

Harry sighed. "Fine, I'll make something special. Honestly Shanks, what kind of Wanted pirate treats a bounty hunter to dinner?"

Shanks just grinned.

"Well, Miss Blue?" Harry asked. "What kind of foods and sweets do you like?"

"Hmm," she hummed, rewrapping the cards with her rubber bands, "I'm rather partial to chocolate."

"Oh!" Shanks exclaimed. "I forgot to mention that the merchant has a few bags of cocoa powder. It shouldn't ruin him if we take one."

All moral inhibitions fled from Harry's mind at this announcement and he practically squealed.

"Perfect," Harry exclaimed, desperately trying to keep his excitement down at a reasonable level. If he had to name one thing he missed most from his old world it would have to be chocolate. He was starting to believe that this new world didn't have chocolate and he was ecstatic that wasn't true. The pastry chef in him was twirling circles as recipe after recipe flew through his mind. There was just so much that could be done with chocolate that Harry couldn't do up until now.

"What about dinner?" Harry forced himself to ask as he watched Shanks leave, presumably to fetch the cocoa powder.

"Um, how's curry sound? I haven't had decent beef curry in months!"

Harry perked up at the request. "Wonderful! Curry then chocolate, both specialties of mine! Considering you've decided to eat out on a pirate's ship, you're in for a treat!"

"Can I watch you make it?" she called after him, as Harry made for the kitchen.

The wizard froze, then tilted his head back and asked coldly, "And have you poison the lot of us?"

There was a tense moment of silence as Harry stared steadily into the uneasy eyes of the bounty huntress before he chuckled and turned away. "Sure, come along. You have to make sure we won't poison you either, right?"

"Great!" Mona chirped, as if the pause never occurred, and skipped after Harry into the kitchen.

Harry discretely threw a cooking ward over the stove and a muggle repelling charm on the cabinet doors. Wards couldn't be used over potions cauldrons since the magic often had unknown effects on the brewing potion, but since cooking was a mostly magic-insensative process, it was useful against poisoning attempts, especially on the war front.

Mona seated herself on the kitchen island as Harry began preparing to cook. Spaz returned quickly, and though he still looked nervous around the bounty huntress, he seemed cheerful enough.

"Found the butter churn!"

"Great," Harry grinned before taking pity on the fidgeting boy and sending him off again. "Fetch me some cream? Yesterday's batch of milk should have a thick layer of it left."

"Yes sirree, Harry, will do!" and he shot off.

"Let's see, chocolate mousse cake will be perfect, I think, and I'll use whatever cocoa powder is left to make chocolate bars! Oh, I wonder if I could make truffles, maybe some filled with fruit liquor. I know we have apple cider somewhere. Ack, but there aren't any chocolate molds, obviously," Harry muttered to himself as he paced around the kitchen before striding to the refrigerator and rustling through the freezer. "I suppose an ice cube tray would work. Ha, cubed chocolate truffles, should still work fine I think."

Mona giggled. "Chehee, you're pretty excited."

"Of course," Harry agreed. "I haven't been aboard this ship for that long, all things considered, but chocolate is hard to come by even when not sailing with a group pirates."

The wizard buzzed around the kitchen in a flurry of motion as the cocoa was delivered by Shanks, sugar was brought in by Greg, and the cream fetched by Spaz. Between the curry, rice, and chocolate confections, Harry barely had time to breathe, but he never asked Mona to lend a hand and the girl never offered. There were limits to the friendliness either could risk in their strange situation.

A/N: Just some fun in this chapter, you know, a spar, cute Luffy, music, a new minor character, and chocolate. Thanks again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings

elli: Thanks for the review! I'm really liking Harry's power, though to be honest, I'm not yet sure how much I want it to tie into the whole Master of Death thing. Right now, it's just sort of a cute reference. Depends on how lazy I feel, haha.

Annabelle: Luffy will still eat the fruit, but the time is still many months away in the canon timeline :) Thanks for the review!

489 reviews, August 15, 2011


	28. Chapter 28: Revelations

A/N: On we go!

Chapter 28

Revelations

Harry was sitting out on the deck, watching the sunrise and sipping his tea, when Mona approached from behind.

"Morning! Whatcha drinking?" she asked cheerfully as she swung herself onto the railing.

Harry chuckled and tossed the cup at her.

"Eeep!" Mona squeaked, her body jerking around awkwardly as she simultaneously tried to catch the incoming projectile and dodge the hot liquid she was sure would come spilling out.

"Whoa." It was with wide eyes that the bounty huntress finally caught the cup, upside down but full, its contents seemingly held in the cup with an invisible lid.

"Try it," Harry offered, but the girl merely furrowed her brows and stuck her tongue out.

"No thanks," she declined. "I don't like tea."

Harry shrugged and, swinging back onto his feet, hooked the cup handle around his finger from Mona's grasp, continuing to enjoy his hot drink.

"Hot chocolate is nice, though," she continued hopefully.

Harry snorted and turned to face Mona, wagging his finger in a mock-scolding fashion. "Don't think you'll be taking my chocolate that easily, little missy. You've already reserved a large slice of chocolate mousse cake from last night."

Mona pouted. "But that's for Uncle Roxy!"

"Who is not here, and has already made it clear that he would like nothing more than to completely ignore our existence and enjoy his vacation."

"He'll be coming. With three Blues in the same ocean, we're bound to all meet up together again, you know. The last time Mom and I visited the Grand Line, we bumped into Uncle Roxy in less than a week even though he wasn't scheduled to be in the area. Turns out the pirate he was hunting led him backwards through the Grand Line. And the time before that, when I went to the Grand Line with Dad and Cousins Mark and Supa we found all four Blue Captains in the same bar just two days later."

Harry stared a moment at these strange, almost supernatural, examples of the ties between those of the same blood. It was almost as weird as the bond he had shared with Riddle.

Almost.

"Marine ship ahead! It looks like it might be Warrant Officer Blue again!" yelled the lookout.

"Uncle Johnny!" Mona exclaimed.

"There's another rowboat approaching from the port bow, as well!" the lookout continued. "It might be the Vice Admiral!"

"And Uncle Roxy!"

"Merlin's pants," Harry sighed. "If I didn't know better, I'd think Shanks predicted this and planned it out."

Not half an hour later, the pirate crew and captain were all gathered on the deck, staring across at the crew of marines on the marine ship and the Vice Admiral standing in his rowboat.

"What wonderful timing," the Vice Admiral smiled, his hands clasped delicately before him as he glanced between Shanks and his younger brother who was busy glaring at the pirate captain. "I was just about to tell Johnny here that the Marine Headquarters has come to a decision about your report and decided that it would be convenient for me to relay the message," he explained, an eyebrow twitching in irritation at having to play messenger again. "Back off, he's beyond you. As long as Red Hair avoids destroying any islands under your immediate jurisdiction, you are to ignore him. The object in question will be dealt with later upon the criminal's return to the Grand Line. That's that, Johnny; be good and go away now, will you?"

"Uncle Johnny, Uncle Roxy!" Mona finally called, jumping from out of the crowd of pirates to wave at her family.

"Mona!"

"Mona," John continued firmly. "Just what do you think you're doing here with this group of ruffians?"

Mona gave a dramatic sigh of disappointment as she explained. "I was trying to catch a few of them to collect on their bounties, but I'm thinking it's not quite possible at my skill level just yet."

The Warrant Officer frowned. "Are you still into that bounty hunter nonsense? Working purely for the sake of money, it's disgraceful to the Blue name."

Mona stuck her tongue out. "At least I don't have to worry about idiot superiors, or being stuck in a single place under orders, or having to give up a target because some old men hundreds of miles away are too scared."

John growled at these references to his own unfavorable position and snapped back sharply. "At least I'm working for an honorable organization for a great ideal. Rock-aniki, it's really about time you talked some sense into Mona," he added sternly, glaring at his older brother.

Roxy merely shrugged. "There's not much I can say anymore to promote the marines without sounding hypocritical. I sent in my resignation notice this morning when I got the message for you."

"You what?" The last Blue marine exploded in indignation over this revelation and spluttered in a rather unattractive manner. "How could you? You! I! Argh, that's it! I'm through with you blood-traitors. I have half a mind to open fire on the lot of you!"

"But you can't," Rock reminded him calmly. "You have orders to leave the Red Hair pirates alone."

"Ah," John sneered, "but surely a message relayed from a simple civilian isn't reliable."

The soon to be ex-Vice Admiral did a face palm, too tired to maintain his lady-like manners and, with an explosive leap, jumped from his rowboat and practically flew upwards to land on the pirate ship.

"I haven't lost my position just yet, Johnny-boy, and I likely won't for another week considering how slow paperwork is in the Employment Department. Now, for the last time, this man is beyond you, and if you can't see that for yourself, I'll just have to show it to you more clearly. Tell me Johnny, do you believe you will ever defeat me in a fight as you are now."

John looked like he was being forced to swallow a lemon as he bit out a negative response.

"And so it stands to reason that if I cannot defeat this pirate, you won't be able to either, right?" Roxy turned to Shanks and unsheathed his katana with a smooth movement. "How about it? Willing to have a go with me?"

The pirates backed away to give the pair room as Shanks withdrew his saber and held it loosely in a double-handed grip. "You seem better than your brother with a blade," the pirate captain commented.

The marine smirked and tossed his katana upwards into the air and swiftly shed his Marine-issue coat and tied back his hair before catching the sword from midair. Standing there with his sword brandished, Vice Admiral Rock Blue positioned himself ready, muscled arms bared in his sleeveless shirt and feet firmly planted in a wide stance on the floor. "I've never gone one on one with the Greatest Swordsman in the World, but I think I can at the very least give you a bit of a workout."

With a low roar, the blue-eyed man started with a forward rush, sword glinting in the sunlight as it approached its target with a horizontal slash from the right. Shanks parried it by bringing his saber up vertically and sweeping to the left, spinning with the motion and bringing his blade to attack at his opponent's chest upon completion of the circle.

During the spin, the ex-marine had recovered his grip on his katana and parried the incoming blow, connecting the block with a swift counterattack and stepping forward to extend the reach of his blade. The pirate used the strength of his double-handed grip to meet the slash head-on, the blades clashing momentarily before Rock was forced to pull back as Shanks slid his blade across and drew first blood with a short cut across Rock's left bicep. Taking advantage of his position as the attacker, Shanks followed up with a vertical attack from above.

Forced on the defensive at such close range, Rock blocked the attack with a reverse-grip on his katana and used the additional leverage of the grip to shove the pirate back a few feet before switching his grip back in preparation for attacking, simultaneously sliding backwards to lengthen the distance.

Growling, the marine lunged forward with a thrust that Shanks dodged and, as Rock planted a foot before himself to halt his forward motion, placed his blade alongside the Vice Admiral's neck, its point pressed threateningly next to the jugular vein.

"I yield," Rock finally admitted and the two broke apart, re-sheathing their weapons.

"Do you understand now, Johnny?" Roxy asked, replacing his coat and releasing his hair while shaking it lightly so that it settled floatingly on his shoulders.

The Warrant Officer was staring blankly from his place on the marine ship, his knuckles white from the grip he had on the railing while he ground his teeth harshly.

"That's enough," John finally states, "I'm through with all of you," he continued, glaring directly at Roxy and then Mona before turning away. "Let's go men."

"Hai, Warrant Officer Blue!" The marine ship slowly turned around and sailed away from the pirate ship.

"Uncle Roxy?" Mona asked timidly, somewhat thrown by this family quarrel.

"Don't worry about it, Mona dear. Your parents have already accepted your career choice, haven't they?"

"But you – , Grandpa will be so mad!"

"I wonder about that," Roxy hummed. "The Blue family has been dying for a long time now and I suppose I might as well explain it, since I doubt we'll ever be the same after your generation. Do you remember, Mona, the story of the two brothers that founded our family in Mariejois during the rise of the World Government?"

"Story time!" Shanks yelled. Several pirates groaned and scattered, choosing not to stick around now that there would be no fight.

"I'll ask for some tables and chairs, Captain," Beckman sighed.

"I'll get the cake," Harry added, choosing not to question how he ended up on a ship with an infamous pirate, a bounty huntress, and a former Vice Admiral for the marines gathered together while not killing each other.

"Do you Mona?" the man asked again, walking over to the railing and gesturing to his men in the rowboat to join him aboard the ship.

"Well, yes, of course. Wielders of our family's twinned blades, the two fought as a duo no pirate could defeat." The chairs, tables, and food arrived at this point and Harry, Spaz, Shanks, Mona, Roxy, a few pirates, and Roxy's subordinates gathered around. Harry placed the cake in front of Roxy and served everyone else a flagon of beer – he certainly felt like he needed one right now.

"How wonderful! It's chocolate," Roxy exclaimed, daintily picking up the offered fork and moaning in an incredibly embarrassing manner at the first bite before continuing his explanation to Mona. "What you know is true, but not the whole story. For one thing, the duo back then were Admirals in the new marine force, and from then on, every generation the swords are passed down to the best swordsman from the Sky and Sea Houses to inherit that partnered sword style and eventually the positions as Admirals. Tell me Mona," he requested around a mouthful of cake, "have you ever wondered why so few of the elders gave you trouble over your decision to break the family tradition and become a bounty huntress?"

"Well," Mona blushed, holding onto her beer nervously without drinking from it, "I always kind of assumed they thought it was a phase and I'd get over it."

"Ha!" Roxy barked. "A phase. It's true that some may have thought that, but three generations ago you would've be married off before the family allowed you to disgrace the Blue name in such a way. Something you should know is that the last pair to inherit the partnered sword-style was the generation before mine. My and Johnny's fathers were prodigies, though not yet Admirals, and if they were together that fateful day, Johnny's father might not have been killed. I think Father feels somewhat guilty about that, actually…" he trailed off, tapping the fork thoughtfully against his lips. "But that's not the point. The fact of the matter is that with Johnny having no talent with a sword and there being no other members of the Sea House, this family style is as good as dead. Blue will probably continue to be a predominantly Marine family, but our influence will likely fade and thus so will the limitations on how each person is to live their lives. Some of the more stubborn and oblivious members of the family will protest your and my decisions, but my father already understands our decline and as head of the family, once he accepts our choices the rest of our relatives will just have to deal."

There was a moment of silence that was soon broken by the sound of a snore.

"Captain, please wake up," Beckman requested, tipping Shanks' chair so that the pirate awoke with a cry of shock. "You were the one who was excited about the story."

Shanks pouted. "But there was no action! Next time," the pirate captain said, speaking to Roxy, "tell an adventure story, yeah?"

"Next time, then," Roxy agreed, "though to be honest I'd rather avoid future conversations with filthy outlaws such as you. I may have resigned as a marine, but don't think this means I agree with a pirate's way of life. I still find the pillaging and violence to be very unattractive."

Shanks merely laughed and left to direct his crew to their next destination.

Harry sighed and downed the rest of his beer as the remaining pirates left. "I don't think I'll ever understand how carelessly all of you can act with each other."

Roxy chuckled. "I don't think I ever imagined sitting down on Red-Hair's ship either, or even resigning from my post before marriage as is traditional in my family, but I have you to thank for that, Magician."

Harry tensed, a hidden hand up his robe sleeve clutched around his wand as his mind raced, wondering about the implications of this man's title for him. Was it possible he'd seen Harry wield magic? How? When? While there was a small possibility the reference was to muggle magic, Harry highly doubted such parlor tricks could have enough an impact to make a Vice Admiral flip his life upside down. Thus, the most important question was why this man believed that what he saw was real magic and not skilled sleight-of-hand, or even Haki or a Devil Fruit power.

Before the wizard could say anything in return, Roxy rose from his seat and made his way back to the ladder that led back to his rowboat, his men following close behind. "Thanks for the chocolate cake; it was absolutely luscious. And Mona," he continued, turning back to look at his niece, "would you like to come with me? You aren't catching anyone on this ship."

Mona smiled. "Mmkay, I will! Oh, one sec," she muttered, digging out her cards again and flipping through them. "Here," she said, handing one over to a shocked Spaz who had been twirling his beer bottle on the table. "That's you, right? I don't think they'll believe me, though, if I tried to give you up, so you might as well keep the card. Thanks for everything!" she yelled out across the ship, then leapt from the railing to land in her uncle's boat.

Within minutes, the pirates and their tag-along duo were left alone aboard their ship.

"Merlin," Harry breathed, slouching back into his chair. "Bloody hell, I wonder if this means we'll be seeing that Roxy person again soon. Though, if he resigned, that means he doesn't plan on letting the marines know about magic, right Spaz?"

The wizard turned to his friend who was staring pale-faced and looking a tad queasy at the card Mona left him with.

"What's that you got there, Spaz?" Harry asked worriedly, lifting the card lightly from loose fingers to look at the photo. On the card was a picture of young girl with long brown hair and brown eyes, expression pulled in an embarrassed frown. What was it Mona said again, that this, er, girl, is Spaz?

Harry whistled. "Damn, you were quite a pretty-boy before puberty, huh?"

A/N: Yeah, this was totally just because I liked the thought of guys pretending to be girls instead of the overdone girls pretending to be guys thing :P

I've decided to skip a few months about here, just 'cause, to speed up the time until Luffy eats the fruit. The next update may take awhile too because I have classes starting Monday. Sorry.

505 reviews 25 of August, 2011


	29. Chapter 29: Snow

A/N: Back, finally!

Chapter 29

Snow

Harry shivered slightly as he tread through the footsteps the pirate crew had left behind on the pristine snow. As far as he could tell, there were no signs of this island being settled. It was a pity really. Despite the white scenery, it actually wasn't even below freezing. His breath still came out in puffs of fog as he took in his surroundings, but the wizard was worried about using a warming charm when wading through drifts of snow – he might leave a river in his wake.

"Harry, Harry! Look!" Spaz yelled out excitedly, waving his arms to draw attention to his mini-snowman army he managed to complete in less than an hour.

"Hahaha!" Harry laughed aloud. "Are you the commander then?"

"Yep!" Spaz confirmed, holding up a large dead tree branch in his hand like a spear. "All shall fear this dread company of merciless misfits!"

"In that case," Shanks butted in as he doubled back towards the ship, "take this!" A snowball was thrown in a flash and impacted heavily on one of the frontline snowmen, knocking it out in a firework of white powder.

"I'll get you for that!"

Not half an hour later, half the pirates were caught up in a massive snowball fight with hastily constructed forts and messily formed teams with traitors popping up equally on both sides.

Harry took this opportunity to sneak off into the forest, tapping at the trees with interest. There were several trees that looked like maple – it was hard to tell when there were no leaves to reference – and Harry was curious to try his hand at tapping a few for sap. He'd tried once when hiding in the Forbidden Forest, but constant temperatures below zero stopped any chance of decent flow.

"Harry?"

The wizard turned to look at Spaz whose face was flushed from the excitement of the snow battle, white powder sprinkled through his hair and clothes. "Yeah, Spaz?" he asked, as the teen drew nearer. It had been several months since Mona handed over Spaz's bounty card and in that time, the boy had continued to mature; his shoulders broadened slightly and his face was dusted with a light beard and moustache. It wasn't a huge change, but Harry was quite sure that no one would be able to link Spaz to his past in just another year.

"Nothing really," Spaz shrugged, bouncing in place to keep warm, his eyes darting around restlessly in wonder of the forest dressed in nothing but shades of black and white. "Just wondering where you'd gone, yes sirree, 'cause Shanks and the rest of the pirates decided to see if there's a lake to go fishing in but I don't know how'ta fish so I thought I'd see what you were up to, y'know?"

Harry smiled and turned back to the maple tree in front of him, brushing off the snow coating the trunk. "Just thought I might try collecting some tree sap. Want to help?"

Spaz beamed. "Of course! I'd love to, Harry, yes sirree. Is it hard? How's it work? Just one tree or – ?"

Harry chuckled as he listened to his friend's ramblings, only occasionally interrupting with instructions as he transfigured the tools he needed.

Spaz had had one of the strangest childhoods Harry ever heard of. With both parents serving as middle ranking CP9 members, he was left at his paternal grandmother's since the age of five. His grandmother, though otherwise clear of mind and strong of body, thought Spaz was a tomboyish girl at first sight. For the first few years Spaz didn't really care much how his grandmother thought of him. Apparently the old woman was fond of the "strong woman" ideology and wanted her 'granddaughter' to be a successful member of CP9 like her daughter-in-law so Spaz started his training early under a female instructor and was kept away from more stereotypically girlish activities like cooking and sewing. As long as he could climb trees and wear pants with the other boys, Spaz didn't care his teacher was a woman or that his grandmother never cut his hair short.

When Spaz was old enough to feel embarrassed about having long hair and pink shirts, he developed a crush on his teacher and chose to continue the act until the day he ran away, which was when he stole his father's old clothes that were kept in the attic and chopped his hair short.

One thing that didn't make much sense to Harry though was the instructor's behavior. Girls hit puberty sooner than boys and even ignoring that, a teacher trained in martial arts should easily be able to recognize a male body after daily contact regardless of maturity. What reason did she have for keeping that secret even after Spaz abandoned their very livelihood?

"_Mornin' Mommy!" A blonde, bespectacled young girl, perhaps eight years old, chirps cheerily at her mother who is setting up cloth dummies on wooden crosses. The well-endowed blonde woman turns towards her daughter with a stern expression._

"_Kalifa, do you remember what you are supposed to call me when on the training grounds?"_

_The little girl, Kalifa, crosses her arms over the book in her arms with a pout. "Sorry, Sensei."_

_The woman smiles and runs a hand through Kalifa's hair. "That's my girl." She looks over to the other early arrival – a long-haired brunette, a few years older, with brown eyes and dirty, scuffed clothes. "Hello Shelly, been playing with the boys again?"_

'_Shelly' blushes. "Yes Sensei."_

"_It's good that you get along so well with them. This evening's training will also be co-ed so play nice with them, Kalifa."_

_The little girl sticks her nose into the air with a huff. "Boys are stupid, 'cause they can't see how pretty I am."_

"Harry. Harry?"

Harry blinks away his vision see Spaz holding a bucket awkwardly below the metal tube protruding from the tree.

"How do I hang the bucket for collecting the sap?"

"Hmm," Harry thought for a bit, before taking his wand a transfiguring a hole towards the top of the bucket for the draining tube, then covering it all with a wooden lid transfigured from a fallen branch. It was all crudely done and the grain of the wood was still visible in the transfigured bucket, but it would do the job and that's all that mattered.

"Do you know how long Shanks wants to stick around here?" Harry asked.

Spaz shook his head. "Although, I did hear Lucky Roo found a lake in a cave that was frozen a whole foot, and, and, there's this Sou person who wanted to spend tomorrow moving ice blocks into the ship's storage space to help preserve the fresh vegetables and fruit the pirates got from the trader raided yesterday. That will probably take awhile."

"Ah-choo!"

Harry and Spaz spun around from the next tree they were drilling a hole into towards the unexpected sound. Approaching them from the vast plain of snow opposite where the pirate ship had docked was a tall figure wearing a thick fur coat, followed by two others. After moving the handkerchief away, the figure was shown to be a man with striking blue eyes.

"Roxy Blue," Harry sighed. "Do you have any idea how creepy it is with you stalking me like this?" Ever since retiring from the Marines, the former Vice Admiral showed up at every island the Red-Hair Pirates landed on, easily traveling the mild waters of East Blue on his rowboat with his former subordinate, now fellow retiree. "And Mona, don't you have bounties to hunt?"

The girl frowned, bounded forward before hopping up a tree, and then shoved a large drift of snow onto Harry's head. "It's all your captain's fault, you know," she said over the wizard's spluttering. "He scared off all the other pirates from the seas. The pickings are too slim now that every middle-ranked name is hiding out in captured islands and such. And I can hardly go after your bunch!"

"Harry, darling," Blue interrupted once Harry dusted off most of the snow. "Surely there must be something your magic can do for this dreadful cold."

Harry rolled his eyes and returned to the tree. "It's not that cold here, considering how much snow is on the ground. You just want to see another spell."

"Hey, Korr, what's up, I haven't seen you in ages, you know, 'cause we haven't docked in weeks but it's been pretty fun anyway, yes sirree. So, has Mr. Blue been doing anything stupid recently, huh, huh?" Spaz bounced around the remaining man who had yet to break his stoic expression.

"He challenged a seagull to a duel, yesterday morning," the man informed his - friend? - with a stoic face and a monotone pitch in his voice. It didn't fool anyone in the group who knew perfectly well Korr enjoyed making fun of his former superior. Sometimes, people wondered if Korr quit his job as a marine purely because he enjoyed making fun of Roxy too much in between practically babysitting the older man.

Harry snickered as Roxy rounded on Korr with indignation.

"That bird was asking for it! My boat is not an avian latrine!"

"Alright, alright," Harry cut in, moving on to the next tree. "You can watch me use magic to collect sap, okay? How long do you plan on sticking around, anyway?"

"Oh wonderful! Probably as long as you do. We finally purchased an actual ship to replace the rowboat from before. That way, we can follow you when Red-Hair eventually decides to return to the Grand Line and we can keep more things like food supplies and clothes, like this coat," Roxy informed them, gesturing to the fur coat he was wearing.

Harry eyed the Blue trio thoughtfully as he continued transfiguring buckets, lids, and metal tubes. "Knowing you, you're traveling far more extravagantly than you know what to do about. I have half a mind to tip Shanks off so he can rob you and then maybe you'll stop acting like some creepy sexual predator."

"How dare you!" Blue yelled indignantly. "I ought to challenge you to a duel!" As a Vice Admiral, sword duels were hard to come by since most marines were too in awe to ever challenge Roxy and pirates never followed the rules. Ever since resigning, the former marine threatened duels left and right to make up for lost time.

Harry smirked. "Tsk, tsk. You should know by now what it means to challenge a wizard to a duel."

There was a tense moment of silence as Roxy contemplated the possibility of winning against his obsession without cheating – the last time he tried, Harry took his sword with a single word – when Harry finally cut in with a cheery teasing voice. "I'll forgive you if you give me some vanilla extract."

Roxy Blue gaped a moment at how easily he was being extorted as Mona giggled in the background and Korr's shared a look with Spaz. Finally, the former Vice Admiral gave a melodramatic sigh and agreed, to Harry's smug delight. The wizard had ambitious plans for making large quantities of ice cream to store in the almost empty freezer in the kitchen.

It wasn't long before Harry and Spaz parted with Roxy, Mona, and Korr to rejoin the pirates. The duo found the crew by following a trail of footprints that eventually led to a river frozen over as it flowed from a large cavern. Most of the pirates were ice fishing with bits of guts leftover from yesterday's barbeque several meters away from the cave opening where the ice was thinner. At the large entrance, there was a growing pile of ice blocks as the remaining pirates lugged them out from deeper in the cave where, presumably, the river was frozen more thickly.

Harry watched for awhile before turning to Spaz again. "Shall we make an igloo?"

Spaz nodded rapidly. "Do you know how? How big can we make it? How long will it take? I've heard about igloos, yes sirree, but I never could make one myself because it's never snowed more than an inch where I come from so we could make tiny snowmen sometimes and have muddy snowball fights but I wanna make an igloo now, oh please Harry, show me how!"

Harry laughed and walked towards the cavern, peeking in to see half a dozen pirates shoving the last of the ice blocks out.

"Hey there. Could me and Spaz borrow some saws?"

Lucky Roo just pointed to the pile of them in the corner with his free hand as he ate his large rack of meat while pushing a large block of ice with his stomach.

"Thanks." Harry picked up two saws and returned to Spaz before stomping out a decent sized circle a bit more than his height in circumference inside the entrance of the cave. The cavern air was below freezing, which was necessary to maintain an igloo's structure.

"Alright, time to cut out blocks of snow. We only want the really solid stuff, so try to brush away the powdery top layer before you start sawing, okay Spaz?"

The pirates who were having no luck fishing watched the two friends work and quickly caught on. Soon, there was an impromptu igloo building contest with vague outlines of what's considered 'the best.' Some groups tried to build the widest, others the tallest, and still others the fanciest. Being pirates, of course, sabotage was completely within the rules of the game.

"Attack!" Harry yelled, as he and Spaz charged at Yassop's group who were fleeing the scene as they stole a stack of snow blocks. Snowballs pelted them from behind but to no avail, and Harry and Spaz resigned themselves to having been robbed. Instead, Harry used an aguamenti charm followed by a carefully controlled 'Glacius' to build a wide moat of slippery water surrounding their under-construction igloo. Spaz could easily Moon Step over it, while Harry used a gripping charm on his boots to walk over the ice.

When Shanks attempted to lead an attack on them next, Harry enjoyed simply watching the trio – Shanks and two others Harry didn't know very well though he did hear one call the other Sou – slip and fall clumsily over the moat. Enthusiastic ballistics of snow from Spaz quickly had them scrambling away with mock threats of revenge.

Now relatively safe from invasions, Harry and Spaz finished their igloo rather quickly, though at first there was nothing about it to separate it as superior to the others still being built. Thus, Harry used his experience in wood-working to manipulate ice and snow. It wasn't quite the same, but the same physics and three-dimensional perception was important. When he heated a knife with fire it slid through the ice with ease and generous freezing charms kept the structure firm. If he made a mistake, it was nothing another handful of snow and some magic couldn't fix. With Spaz's help building up mounds of snow, Harry decorated the 'front lawn' of the igloo with tables and chairs as well as transformed the igloo itself into a giant snow crab with a pair of turrets sculpted from the ventilation shafts.

"Done," Harry stated with pride. "Hopefully it doesn't come to life over night and digest us while we're asleep inside."

Spaz stared until Harry chuckled nervously. "Right, morbid thought, haha, no need to worry so much Spaz. This time I'm just joking; I'm no good at object-animal transfiguration."

The night was spent on the snowy island instead of aboard the ship as each pirate enjoyed roasted fish and their own cozy igloos. Shanks insisted on a round of sake despite the risks of hypothermia.

"Man, this snow reminds me of our island back on the Grand Line," the pirate captain reminisced. "Hey Beckman, how about you?"

Beckman looked around a bit before turning back to Shanks. "It's familiar, Captain, but it's not nearly as cold. There also hasn't been a blizzard since we docked."

"True, true," Shanks agreed. "Maybe, when we leave our headquarters, we'll travel farther up north and see how cold it can get in East Blue."

"If you'd like," Beckman agreed. "We only have a few more months, as agreed with the mayor."

"Just a few more months," Yassop slurred. "Luffy's a good kid – about the same age as my son!"

"We know!" yelled the pirates within hearing distance as they groaned. Already, they couldn't wait to return to Windmill Village so Yassop would direct his repetitive drunken ramblings about his son to the pirate-fan-boy instead of them.

A/N: Thanks to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings, for the edits. I hope everyone liked the chapter. Let me know if there are still any questions about Spaz's past :)

531 reviews, Sept. 18, 2011!


	30. Chapter 30: Mountain Bandits

A/N: And here we finally see the opening scene of the One Piece manga :) Sorry for the delay in updates!

Chapter 30

Mountain Bandits

The vacation in a snowy wonderland didn't last as long as most of the pirates would've liked. After all, on the second day, some men found deer that could be hunted for venison. Though they were thin from a month's diet of tree bark, it was fresh and new meat welcomed by those tired of barbequing fish and pork. By the third day, Harry was handing out samples of freshly boiled maple syrup and cooking large pots of syrup-glazed venison. On the fourth day, however, the temperatures didn't stay below freezing long enough for many igloos, and as their shelters melted around them and the deer grew more alert, Shanks gave the order to move out.

The return to headquarters was relatively smooth sailing. Harry and Spaz spent most of the time milking cows and making ridiculous amounts of ice cream of varying flavors. They arrived back at the dock of Windmill Village at night and chose to go ashore with the sun rather than disturb the civilians.

Their first welcome appeared in the morning in the form of a little boy with a dagger, baring his teeth at the crew as he stood on the figurehead of the ship.

"Oi!" Shanks called out. The pirates all gathered out on deck, enjoying the warm weather. The pirate captain in particular even chose to forgo his coat. "What are you doing?"

Luffy huffed. He had, impressively enough, rowed himself in a small boat to the larger ship and 'snuck aboard' while the pirates were eating breakfast. "I'm not joking this time!" he yelled, holding the dagger up in the air. "I've had enough! I'll prove it for you all to see!"

Shanks merely laughed at the threat, knowing that his crew members were all perfectly capable of disarming Luffy without harming the boy. "Go for it! Let's see what you're going to do!"

"Man, that Luffy," the pirates joked with each other.

"He's going to do something funny again."

"Never gives up, eh?"

"Argh!" A yell of both pain and determination caught them all by surprise as Luffy grasped the dagger with both hands and cut into his cheek.

"WHAT?"

The deck was soon home to a cacophony of voices, yelling in pain, yelling in worry, yelling curses and scolding and orders as the weapon was taken away from the child and he was taken back ashore for treatment.

When Luffy was off the ship accompanied by Shanks and Beckman in search of the village doctor, the remaining pirates sank onto the deck, adrenalin slowly draining away.

"Ghaha," Spaz chuckled. "Isn't he a strange kid, Harry?"

Harry stared at the speeding rowboat with amusement. Luffy was certainly very unique. What kind of kid tried to prove his mettle to a bunch of pirates by cutting his own face? It was guaranteed to scar, though he supposed kids so young didn't care much about that.

Eventually the pirates were all laughing at the event and quickly prepared to disembark as well. A pirate will take any excuse for a celebration, and Luffy's crazy act just then would do just fine.

"Aren't you coming?" Spaz asked as he straddled the railing in preparation of jumping down to the waiting rowboat.

Harry shook his head. It was a bit too early to get drunk for him, and it didn't feel right celebrating a kid's successful attempt at self-mutilation, no matter how innocent the intentions. "I think I'll stay behind just a little longer. I'd like to take some time to inventory what ingredients I'll need to ask Shanks to raid for before we leave the town. Speaking of which," Harry reached into his pocket and retrieved the Rubber-Rubber Fruit in its small wooden chest and tossed it over. "Give that to Shanks or Beckman for me, will you? I'm kind of tired of carrying it around, and every time I try to hand it over something interrupts and I'm stuck with it again."

"Righto!" Spaz mock-saluted and left.

Harry turned back and headed towards the kitchen. He'd maybe spend on hour or two checking things out before heading to Partys' for lunch.

"I'll learn how to swim by then."

Harry walks into the bar, ducking as an empty beer barrel was tossed over his head and crashing into another pirate's head. Luffy was eating at the counter, a bandage under his eye but otherwise looking quite cheerfully at Shanks who wished him luck. He quickly found Spaz to the side and was waved over.

"Hurry, Harry! This is the last barrel so if you want some, you better get it now."

The wizard chuckled and headed over, but he didn't get a chance at any alcohol as the door was slammed open. The bar fell silent as the silhouette of a large group of bandits appeared in the doorway. The leader strode confidently into the building, followed by a mass of men wearing either arrogant frowns or cold smirks. He commented insultingly on the appearance of the pirates, who did nothing but stare.

Harry clenched his fists under the table. They couldn't afford to cause trouble here, even if the bandits provoked them. There was too much risk that they would take the first opportunity to get vengeance from the villagers the next time the pirates set sail, and any more ruthless options were not suitable in the presence of innocents like Makino and Luffy.

The bandit leader approached the counter, standing next to Shanks as he introduced them as bandits and ordered ten barrels of alcohol.

"I'm so sorry," Makino replied with a nervous smile, "but we are out of alcohol."

"Oh?" the bandit asked, looking around at the drunken pirates with skepticism. "That's strange," he said in mocking sarcasm, "then what are they drinking? Is it water?"

"Its sake and beer," Makino answered, and hurried to explain, "but that's all we have."

Shanks raised his head and interjected with a friendly smile. "I'm sorry, looks like we finished all the grog here, sorry about that. Here, if you don't mind," the pirate captain lifted up a glass bottle of wine that Makino had handed to him just seconds before, "take the last bottle."

There was a tense moment as the bandit leader stared down at the pirate and the offering when suddenly, a fist rose and smashed the bottle, its contents splashing over Shanks. Makino and Luffy gaped in shock as the bandits smiled and the pirates looked on silently.

"Just who do you think I am?" the bandit leader asked. "Don't take me so lightly. One bottle is not enough." He withdrew a wanted poster from his coat that revealed his name to be Higuma, seeming to not notice that Shanks was paying more attention to the fact that there was now a mess of spilled alcohol than to his eight million beli bounty.

Like typical villains, the man bragged of how he's killed 56 people and concluded with a warning of how mountain bandits and sea pirates "don't mingle very well."

Harry winced when Shanks ignored the entire speech in favor of picking up the glass pieces from the floor. People like Higuma hated being ignored and didn't care how much damage was necessary to bring attention back upon them.

Sure enough, when Shanks requested a mop, Higuma unsheathed his sword and, with a wide sweep, sent everything on the countertop crashing to the floor.

"Well, it seems you really enjoy cleaning," the bandit leader declared. "Now you can enjoy doing it more." Satisfied he had taught the pirate his place, Higuma turned with a huff and herded his men out the door, leaving Shanks on the floor, gritting his teeth.

"Are you alright, Captain?" Makino cried out, rushing around the counter to crouch before the pirate sitting on the floor, still dripping wine. "Did you get hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," he reassured her, smiling at her concern. "Phew!" he sighed, blowing off the rest of his irritation.

"Ahahahaha!" his crew laughed, teasing their captain now that the danger had passed.

"Our captain looked so silly!"

"He fixed you up good, Captain!"

"Dahaha!" Shanks laughed along. Harry smiled and chuckled too. It was actually pretty impressive how easily the situation was diffused. The bandits left in a good mood, so the village should be relatively safe, and there was certainly no threat to the pirates from them. Eight million beli was an impressive bounty for East Blue, but Shanks was a veteran of the Grand Line – such pocket money wasn't worth worrying over.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Huh?" Shanks looked up towards Luffy who screamed at them from where he stood.

"That was disgraceful! Why didn't you fight him? So what if they have more people? Who laughs after getting picked on? You're not a man, and not a pirate either!"

Shanks just looked at the boy for a little bit, as if suddenly realizing that Luffy was still a child not just because he was short and liked to drink juice, but because there was still so much of the world he hasn't seen and couldn't begin to understand.

"Look, I know how you feel," Shanks smiled, "but it's just a bottle of wine. There's nothing to get worked up about."

Luffy clearly didn't agree and turned to leave with a huff. "I don't want to see you again, coward!"

"Oh come on, don't go, Luffy," Shanks needled, grabbing hold of the boy's arm to hold him back. Luffy, however, continued walking, and as the distance between them grew, so did the kid's arm, to the shock and horror of all the pirates present.

"His arm, it's stretching!" Shanks yelled, which certainly didn't help matters as Luffy was beginning to panic about the fact that one of his limbs had grown then snapped back like a rubber band. An explanation quickly was found when Lucky Roo checked the Devil Fruit chest only to find it empty.

"It's gone!" he yelled, "the Rubber-Rubber Fruit we took from the enemy isn't here!" He grabbed the Devil Fruit Encyclopedia from Beckman and flipped to the page that displayed a drawing of the fruit in question. "Luffy," he asked, pointing to the picture, "did you eat this?"

Luffy's eyes bulged. "Well yeah, isn't that dessert? It tasted pretty bad though."

Harry, embarrassingly enough, started coughing, having choked on his own spit in shock. Tasted pretty bad? Devil Fruits were nasty! This kid was apparently someone who could eat anything.

"That's the Rubber-Rubber Fruit!" Shanks yelled, bumping his forehead against Luffy's as if the closer proximity would help him convey his message more clearly. "It's one of the devil fruits as well as one of the rarest treasures in the sea! Whoever eats it will turn into a Rubber Man and will never be able to swim!"

"What!" Luffy screamed, the last fact hitting him hard. "You're kidding, right?"

"You idiot!"

After causing such a commotion, the pirates chose to head off again the next day instead of sticking around the usual week. When they left, Luffy was still angry at Shanks for his 'cowardly behavior' during the confrontation with the bandit, but seemed pretty happy with his new body, going around to show off to the villagers all the new things he could do now that his body could stretch and was resistant to bruising.

"What a day," Harry sighed, walking up to Shanks who was sitting on the figurehead and gazing back at the island they were leaving. "Sorry about the fruit, Shanks. I probably should've kept it, huh?"

Shanks turned his head back and grinned. "Nah, it's not like any of us had any use for it, and to be honest, most pirates in the Grand Line have a Devil Fruit power. Luffy's just getting a bit of a head start, it seems."

"But poor you," Harry snickered. "Your biggest fan thinks you're a disappointment!"

"Dahaha," Shanks laughed, hopping back on deck. "He's still too young, after all, eh Kid?"

Harry rolled his eyes. Luffy wasn't the only one frustrated with how Shanks treated him like a child "Well, hopefully those bandits won't cause trouble while we're gone."

"They're all talk," Shanks replied. "There's no doubt that Higuma guy killed people, but anyone of serious danger couldn't possibly keep count of all his victims because he wouldn't care enough to. If he sees all his kills as individuals, then he's not the kind to burn down whole towns or fires randomly into the streets, right? As long as the villagers are smart enough not to provoke him, he won't bother doing anything to them."

"I suppose." Harry agreed to an extent. As mountain bandits stuck on an island, they were more dependent on their victims' livelihood than pirates, so they couldn't afford to do anything stupid enough to destroy that revenue source. Just let them believe they are the ones in power, and they'll let you live your life. Compromises like that, however, made Harry's stomach turn.

"Where are we off to then?" the wizard asked, hoping to distract himself from his thoughts.

"Hmm, I wonder," Shanks answered, tipping his hat back to look up at the sky.

"Hey now, you bloody scatterbrain," Harry scolded, "do you ever have a plan in mind before raising anchor?"

"Dahaha," Shanks laughed. "Isn't that the freedom of being a pirate? But you know, I've heard some rumors of a unique traveling merchant last spotted entering East Blue. Apparently he spends about two years in an ocean before moving on, and no one knows how he does it. Normally I'm not interested in buying goods, but since we're in the area, shall we go take a look at what he has to offer?"

"Heh," Harry chuckled. "You're the captain of this ship, aren't you?"

"I'll be your captain, some day, Kid, just you wait," Shanks promised. "Oi! Men! What say you to paying the famous Old Man Merchant a visit?"

"Ah?"

"Old Man Merchant?"

"That crazy legend?"

"Hey now, Captain," Alvin asked, waking from his nap. "You've heard the rumors about his extravagant fees, yeah? How do you plan to pay them when our last treasure haul was that Zoldeo guy over half a year ago?"

"We're pirates, aren't we?" Shanks grinned. "If we need more treasure, we'll hunt for it. If we need more goods, we'll steal it. Besides, we're just going to look, to look Al. He's practically a treasure all by himself."

The pirates traded looks and finally just shrugged.

"So where is he, then, Captain?"

"Uh," Shanks scratched his head under his straw hat. "Well, he is where he is. We'll find out when we get there."

Bodies fell to the floor in exasperation as Harry face-palmed. "That makes no sense."

"Dahaha! It doesn't? Oh well. I better tell Beckman our plans now. We have to make it back before our contract with Headquarters expires, right?"

"A new adventure?"

Harry glanced inconspicuously up at the ghost floating above his head and smirked. "Seems like it. Have you ever heard of this merchant before?"

"Just the rumors and stories Shanks has heard when traveling the Grand Line. Apparently he deals both in legal goods and black market items, selling Grand Line treasures to the cardinal Blues, selling marine technology to pirates, and charging fees not limited to gold and cash. Strangest of all, however, is that he travels between the separated bodies of water on a large ship without sails. Stories claim he disappears over night and has never been sighted at either Reverse Mountain or Mariejois, thus how he travels is a complete mystery."

"Sounds pretty interesting," Harry nodded. "Well, I better make dinner. See you tonight, Straw Hat."

"Sure. I'll stump you this time, Harry."

Harry gave a challenging smirk before walking away.

A/N: Whoo! So, there'll be an original arc to fill in the time until Shanks returns to rescue Luffy, and hopefully it will go well.

To my unsigned reviewers of the past two chapters:

Gogolu and Artemis, thanks for the review :)

Annabelle: It seems I won't get around to magic shows with the villagers, but maybe in this new arc?

Anonymous: Thanks for your wonderful review and praise :) Once again, this story will contain NO SLASH. This is directed towards you,

(): as well. Looking back, I can see why that line may seem a little dirty, but I had no such intentions, and really, vanilla extract isn't white. This story WILL NOT BE YAOI. Yaoi lovers are asked to please check out my other story, Pirate Conqueror.

Ebudae: Thanks for your review! As for your concerns about romance, nothing should happen for a long while, and I have no plans to go deep into romance. There will likely just be scattered scenes to make it clear who's together, but the story should maintain itself as a casual adventure.

Many thanks to PyromanianBlackWings for betaing!

551 reviews, 10/15/11

Thanks guys!


	31. Chapter 31: Merchant's Mine

A/N: Onwards to new adventures!

Chapter 31

Merchant's Mine

After dinner, Harry and Spaz found themselves peeking into the navigation room where Beckman and another pirate, Todd, were using a sheet of tracing paper over a rough map of the East Blue to highlight where the crew has already traveled.

"Hey guys," Harry greeted, "looking for the Merchant guy?"

"That's right," Beckman confirmed around his cigarette. "He has a reputation of staying in place for two years before moving on, so he should be someplace in East Blue we haven't visited yet."

"Err, wow, I don't know much about sailing and stuff, but surely it's not possible to visit every corner of the ocean in less than a year?"

Todd blew an irritated sigh and ruffled his hair, uncaring of the ink he splattered as it wasn't exactly noticeable in his black locks. "It isn't, really. We mostly depend on the Captain's devil luck in situations like this, to be honest. This time is particularly irritating though," he admitted, "because the unexplored areas are spread out across the entire map. Thank Kami-sama the map itself is pretty reliable, unlike any of the Grand Line."

"Ne," Spaz interjected. "Who is this merchant, anyway? Like, do you know anything about him other than he's a legend that sells things at high prices and sticks to one place for two years before moving on?"

Beckman stood up from the map he was leaning over and stretched a bit before responding. "Old Man Merchant, as he's known, is a tradesman who deals in just about anything – information, bounties, and the traditional goods like food, weapons, and cloth. The payment he demands can be anything from information and money to favors and entertainment. He's most famous, however, for his power to change locations with all his stock without anyone witnessing his travel."

"That's neat," Harry commented. "How is his standing with the World Government? I mean, if Shanks wants to see him, this guy probably trades with pirates regularly, right? And the marines just let him?"

Todd snorted. "Yeah, right. The World Government hates him, but there's little they can do about it. They can never get solid proof of his black market dealings, all his pursuers die in mysterious accidents, and he pays his merchant's taxes. The marines, though, keep track of him to use as pirate bait, and occasionally even to trade for rare goods. Old Man Merchant is picky with his customers, really."

"Hey, then, then, do you think maybe Roxy knows where we could find him?" Spaz suggested. "We could always ask, yes sirree, 'cause Roxy resigned just a few months ago, y'know, so the place is still the same and if he knew then he could tell us now, right-right?"

The pirates looked at each other and shrugged. "Let's try it," Beckman agreed.

"Great," Harry smiled, "I'll go ask Shanks to track down Roxy's bug."

The wizard actually bumped into Yassop first, so using the sniper's superior sensing abilities through haki, a black Den Den Mushi was found crawling on the ceiling of the navigation room, surprisingly. Assuming the ex-marine overheard their dilemma, Spaz was sent to inform the look out to keep an eye out for the man's new ship.

An hour later, Roxy and Kor were climbing the rope ladders up onto the pirate ship's deck where Shanks awaited eagerly in the hopes the two had the information he wanted.

"One condition," Roxy smirked. "I'm coming with you."

Shanks, of course, had no problem with that, and so Kor joined Beckman and Tod in the navigation room while Roxy spent the rest of the day challenging Shanks to duels, every one of which he lost in a distressingly quick fashion.

Kor proved himself to be a talented navigator, and the sail to their destination halfway across the Blue took less than a week.

"Marine ships ahead! A whole fleet, displayed numbers of 56, 42, and 117!" the lookout called out below.

"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed, "why so many ships in the same place as the Merchant?"

"Of course," Roxy replied, riding the railing like a lady's side-straddle on a horse. "Pirates are often drawn to the goods offered by Old Man Merchant. A particularly favorite trade is in top-notch armors and weaponry. The government can't shut him down, but the marines have long since realized the prestige to be gained by rounding up a few dozen wanna-be crews simply by keeping a lookout in this area. You'll find plenty of bounty-hunters here for the same reason."

"Mona?"

"No," the former Vice Admiral gave a delicate shake of his head. "Mona has never frequented the Merchant's Mine – she claims the pickings are too cheap and easy."

Harry snorted. Merchant's Mine was a quaint way of summing up the money to be had for successful bounty hunters if it was indeed true that pirates flocked to this salesman.

Roxy squinted up at the sunny sky. "A good day for ice cream."

Harry scowled. Ever since the weather started getting warm as the ship sailed farther south, Roxy never failed to steal a bowl of ice from the freezer. Of course, the man was paying back with sword lessons, but the less than subtle requests preceding each serving got old after a while. "Didn't you already have your daily bowl?"

"Not for me this time," Roxy sniffed. "Too much and I'll get pimples. But this is Old Man Merchant's place. If you want to get past the outer areas you either have to sell goods or entertainment. Red Hair and his crew could probably join a battle tournament, but unless you want to openly use magic, you wouldn't last very long in such competitions. Setting up an ice cream stand will put you under the temporary protection of a tradesman."

"An ice cream stand, huh?" Shanks butt in, walking over with a grin on his face. "Sounds pretty cool. The crew and I have already agreed to enter the fights, but you might enjoy selling your work instead, yeah Kid?"

"As long as you don't mind, then, I suppose," Harry acquiesced.

"Dahaha," Shanks laughed. "Just save me some ice cream to celebrate my victory at the swordsmanship duels."

Roxy tutted. "Those poor competitors don't stand a chance."

"You won't be fighting then?" Harry asked. "Isn't this a good opportunity for duels?"

The ex-marine gave a shrug and flicked some imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Old Man Merchant doesn't cater to only legals, remember? And besides, I'll have more fun browsing the goods and helping you with your stand. Who knows, we might bump into the Merchant, himself."

As the pirate ship sailed closer to the wall of marine ships, the fleet slowly began to part, clearly having been ordered not to challenge the Grand Line pirate crew. Harry barely paid attention to it, having grown used to the marines in East Blue ignoring Shanks' existence

"I'm confused," the wizard admitted after a beat. "Is it normal to not see the merchant person? I mean, isn't he the person people go to trade with, in the first place?" In Harry's mind, he was picturing a merchant ship, a bit larger than Shanks', with goods like weaponry and silk available for trade set out on tables and stored under hatches. Talk of battle tournaments and soliciting ice cream wasn't quite fitting with that image.

"You seem to have a misimpression of what we're dealing with here," Roxy smiled, "which is normal. Old Man Merchant's 'ship' is something you have to see for yourself to understand. We're almost there, though. Shall we go find you friend and pack up for your first business day?"

Harry glared halfheartedly at the 'you'll understand when you experience it' speech before agreeing. They could use some of Spaz's enthusiasm to attract customers.

* * *

"Come one, come all! It's a warm sunny day today so how about a sweet and cold treat? We've got ice cream for a negotiable price!"

"I do hope you plan on helping with the negotiating," Harry murmured to Roxy as he organized the barrels of ice cream between blocks of ice while Spaz advertized. "I don't see why we can't just charge a flat rate."

"Don't be silly," Roxy replied with a flirtatious wink. "In Merchant's Mine, a negotiable price doesn't mean haggling for more or less beli. What we're looking for are customers who are willing to pay in limited goods or information."

"You honestly expect such things in exchange for a bowl of ice cream?" Harry said skeptically.

Roxy shrugged. "It's a large ship, and when traveling on the sea, the only thing one must always expect is everything."

A large ship indeed, Harry thought wryly, closing the ice cream crate doubling as their shop stand to glance around at the crowds milling around. It was more like a medium-sized island heavily populated by characters of all kinds. Most were unusually ordinary, like common travelers, including honeymooning couples stepping off at the dozens of docks off-shooting the ship. The ship itself was lined with stands of all kinds, many selling foods Harry only vaguely recognized from his world tripping, while others sold trinkets.

Of course, this was just the outer edge of the ship. Shanks and his crew ran off further towards the middle in search of the various stadiums available for the rumored tournaments. Looking around at the occasional people carrying swords, guns, and excessive muscles, Harry felt pretty safe confirming those rumors as based off fact and mentally wished the Red-Haired Pirates good luck. Not that they needed it. They were, after all, Grand Line pirates among those of East Blue which is known only for being the weakest of the cardinal oceans.

"But such a ridiculously large ship," Harry sighed. "Isn't it impossible for no one to have seen him sail elsewhere in it?"

"Not only impossible to travel without witnesses," Roxy added, "but impossible to travel without a permit through Mariejois. After all, the only way to visit all four Blues is through Mariejois, or by Reverse Mountain."

"Ehh?" Spaz interjected. "Ne, it's such a big ship, how can it possibly ride up Reverse Mountain, yeah Harry? It's just not possible, no sirree."

"Exactly," Roxy confirmed. "That's why it's such a mystery."

"In that case," interjected a new voice, "how about I tell you a theory to explain the mystery behind how Old Man Merchant does it in exchange for a bowl?"

The trio looked towards their first customer. It was a woman with a slim figure and a young face. Likely in her mid-twenties, the girl was nonetheless dressed in clothes expected of old housewives and carried a basket of delicately carved animals on one arm and another half-full of groceries in the other.

"Well?"

Harry smiled. "Why not? Though it is curious that you would know something like that when Roxy hasn't a clue…" he trailed off in question.

The woman smiled. "I've lived on this ship for many years now, thus I'm one of the privileged few who have actually experienced the Migrations. Old Man Merchant, of course, never explains it or even shows us exactly how it's done, but I can guess some parts easily enough."

"In that case, what flavor?"

"Vanilla," she replied, eyeing the menu displayed on the crate's front, "and I'll tell you my name for some maple syrup on top."

Harry blinked in surprise as he opened the box to scoop out a ball of vanilla ice cream. "Are names also used as currency here?"

The girl giggled. "Of course. This is Old Man Merchant's ship where information is just as valuable as beli. Isn't that why you have negotiable prices?"

"Actually, that's Roxy's idea. I've never even heard of this place until about a week ago," Harry explained, dribbling a generous amount of maple syrup into the bowl before grabbing a spoon and handing it over. "Perhaps it's good the three of us are starting out small with a stand like this. Merlin knows how much we'll lose out on due to ignorance before we catch on to things."

"Indeed," the woman agreed, spooning up a mouthful. "For example, you've already given away that one of your companion's name is Roxy. Since you seemed expectant of this Roxy to be more knowledgeable of this ship than you, I can only guess you must be referring to Mr. Tall and Broad over there who, by his outfit, likely has a marine background of some sort. If he is indeed a marine name Roxy, there are only so many people it could be. Such startling blue eyes are a further clue and I'm tempted to label him Vice Admiral Rock "Roxy" Blue of the Grand Line. Known quirks include acting like a woman and retiring from the marines recently at such a young age. I'm ever so curious as to why and I'm tempted to conclude you, Mr. Ice Cream Man, have something to do with it."

The three men stared at this woman in shock and mild horror.

"My name is Cantora," she introduced herself around her spoon, "and this dish is quite marvelous. Both the ice cream and maple syrup are crudely made, but it's mildly nostalgic that way. As for my theory, well, I believe Old Man Merchant has the power to create doors."

"Doors?" Harry asked weakly. He could ignore the comment about his "crude" goods since it was true he was no expert in ice cream or maple syrup, but felt a bit queasy at the thought that his slip with Roxy's name gave away so much.

"It's a power that allows the user to open up doors anywhere. The most commonly known use for that is opening doors in walls. There is no such thing as an impenetrable fortress for the Door Man," she explained, giggling at the silly sounding title she created. "However, mastery of this power includes opening doors in mid-air to distant locations. So, if Old Man Merchant creates a large enough door that opens up in a new ocean, he needs only sail through it – practically instantaneous movement."

"Awesome," Spaz gasped, "Ne, isn't it, yes sirree, Harry!"

"Isn't a large door opening up in space kind of, well, conspicuous?" Harry questioned.

"Well, yes," Cantora conceded, "and to be honest, I've never seen it. That's why it's just a theory, you know? But if he does it at night or in foggy weather, he can open a door below the ship and fall through, right?"

"Fascinating," Roxy muttered, absently patting his hair nervously at the new information. "What the marines wouldn't do for a power like that. What they wouldn't do to seal away a power like that from the hands of pirates."

"So," the girl chirped, scraping away at the last of her ice cream, "what's your story then?"

"What do you have to offer for it?" Harry countered.

"Kye-keh," she chuckled. "Quick learner. Alright then," she agreed, reaching into her basket, "a Sea Horse in exchange for a bowl of chocolate with fruit syrup and the story behind your presence here."

Harry reached a hand towards the figurine. "May I?" he asked, waiting for a nod before picking it up in his fingers. It was exquisite work, slightly larger than his hand, and almost an exact replica of the creature Shanks rode just months ago, the grain of the wood naturally transitioning from a pale tan color at the horse head to a rustic orange brown for the fish tail. "Amazing," he complimented, rubbing a thumb across the oiled wood. "What do you guys think?" he asked the other two.

Roxy shrugged. "She already figured out who I am."

"I don't mind either, no sirree," Spaz chimed in, "since, ya know." The teen ruffled his blond hair that represented his new identity. Even if Harry introduced him as Spaz and a fellow passenger of Shanks' ship, there was no past of such a person to unravel.

"But," Roxy interjected, "are you sure?" His eyes darted towards the inner grounds of the ship.

Harry smiled and turned back towards Cantora. "Deal," he agreed, placing the figuring carefully aside to scoop out the order. "I highly doubt Shanks will mind, especially since I plan on giving the sea horse to him."

"It does look an awful lot like Frank, yes sirree!"

"Shanks?" Cantora spluttered, hands frozen stiff around her bowl. "Red Hair is here? I mean, I heard the rumors, but for a Grand Line pirate to actually come!"

"Quite the rumor mill," Roxy muttered. "We only docked an hour ago."

"Rumors travel at viscous speeds," Harry stated dryly, having plenty of experience in the matter. "But yes, Shanks is here. He apparently grew bored of just randomly sailing around East Blue but isn't willing to leave yet either, so here we are."

"But you aren't part of his crew," she said with conviction, finally digging into her new treat. "Oh, this syrup is actually very good."

"No," Harry affirmed slowly and curiously. "I suppose you probably knew that from all the bounties Shanks' crew supposedly has, though really, that must be some memory you have."

Cantora smirked around her spoon. "You betcha'. So what's Shank doing on this ship?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted _our_ story? But, well, I'm sure you'll know soon enough since Shanks is hardly a person who keeps out of the spotlight. He and the rest of the crew went farther in to join in some battle tournaments."

"What's that you say?"

The foursome at the ice cream stand turned abruptly towards the raised voice.

"Oi, oi, oi," the large man yelled at the person working a noodle stand. "Just what do you think you're doing, selling such crappy food to me, huh? If I get sick, I'll kill you." With a kick of his hefty foot, the stand was sent crashing to the floor, hot water splashing into the air. A few drops landed on the attacker's arm. "Ah! I've been burned! Hey, you," he called out, stomping closer to his victim. "You're going to pay up for my medical fees, right?"

A/N: So yeah, its a really big ship :) Think Thriller Bark.

Thank you to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings!

570 reviews, 10/27/11!

Whoo-hoo! Thanks everyone!


	32. Chapter 32: Magic Show

A/N: Hello again! Did you all remember to make a wish at 11:11 11/11/11?

Chapter 32

Magic Show

Harry narrowed his eyes at the belligerent character who seemed to have decided there was no point in further tormenting the noodle chef cleaning up the floor. He spit derisively in the broken stand's general direction and walked in Harry's direction.

He glared at the various people around him before locking eyes with Harry and sneering. "What's that look about, huh? An ice cream stand, huh. Well then Mister Ice Cream Man, how about a bowl of chocolate ice cream?"

"Can you pay?" Harry returned.

"Cheh, yeah, sure," the man answered with an arrogant smirk. He chucked a gold coin at the young wizard's head and attempted to conceal his startled reaction when Harry snatched it from the air.

Harry pocketed the coin and handed over a scoop of chocolate ice cream. Spaz and Roxy stood tense on either side of the stand while Cantora held her spoon in her mouth, using her hands to grip tighter on her baskets.

The man took one bite of the ice cream before spitting it out on the ground with a noise of disgust.

"What's this crap, huh? You call this ice cream? Unbelievable!" For a moment he made as if to try and kick over Harry's stand as well but backed off after a moment when Roxy placed a hand on the katana sheathed at his side.

"If it is not to your liking," Harry smiled with the plastic expression of one humoring another's childish tantrum, "you may have your gold back. Please give back the bowl," he requested.

The man growled and threw the bowl over. This time, Spaz caught it, managing to use his superhuman reflexes to snatch it upright and prevent the ice cream inside from spilling into a mess everywhere. Harry tossed the coin back the man left grumbling.

"Is that really alright?" Cantora asked, setting her baskets down again to finish her ice cream.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not here for profit, and it's hard for a customer to take advantage of refunds for food since it only works if you truly did not consume much more of it than a single bite. As for the man himself, I imagine he'll be taken care of shortly by whatever police force it is that works here."

Cantora tilted her head in question, handing back her empty bowl and spoon. "I thought this was your first time here?"

"It's not far-fetched of an assumption, I don't think," Harry explained, "for there to be some form of law-enforcement at least on the outer edges." He gestured back towards the noodle stand that was being reset and reopened. "It's quite clear many of these people have neither fighting experience nor bodyguards, so there must be something else allowing them all to continue their businesses at a profit despite the occasional violent customers."

"Not a bad deduction," Cantora praised, "and you're certainly right about it only applying to the outer edges. If you move further in, you're on your own. That's why those who sell food and goods stay along the edges, the performers with little to have stolen move a little further in, and the battle arenas where most participants hold pride in being able to take care of themselves are further in still."

"Performers?" Roxy asked.

"Like dancing, music, acrobatics," she listed off.

Roxy and Spaz glanced down at Harry. The wizard scowled. "No."

"Oh come on Harry, please, oh please, it'd be so cool!" Spaz pleaded. "Yes sirree, you'd be awesome and I want to see what's it like further in, and, and, it's not like we can't fight if we gotta, no sirree. Harry, Harry, please!"

Harry grimaced and glanced towards Roxy. "I suppose I already know how you feel about the topic," he muttered as the former marine gave an innocent expression of confusion. "We've only served two customers!"

"You're the one who said you weren't interested in profit," Roxy countered.

"I dislike being in the spotlight."

"You're a magician," came the retort. "I refuse to believe you cannot perform in front of a crowd."

"A magician?" Cantora perked up. "Oh I love magic shows! With former Vice Admiral Blue at your side, there really isn't anything to worry about. I'll help you set up and everything if you promise me a private show."

"Can I at least sell the ice cream?" Harry whined.

"Ice cream!" Spaz shouted. "Only thirty beli a scoop and toppings for an extra ten!"

Interested customers steadily gathered at the flat rate and the ice cream sold out before dinner time.

"Let's go!"

Harry could only sigh and follow along.

"So there's really no formalities to go through in order to set up a show," Cantora explained. "Much like the rest of the ship, really. The only paperwork anyone does here is registration for the battle tournaments and the rare trades with Old Man Merchant himself. Just like the outer areas, the only thing you need to do is find an open space and occupy it in hopes of attracting customers, or rather, an audience." She paused to look at the trio wheeling around what was the ice stand. "Have you decided if you want scheduled shows with ticket sales or just act as street performers for donations?"

"Street performing is fine," Harry shrugged. "We're only here for the experience and street performing is more flexible. Knowing Shanks, there's a high chance we'll need to leave in a rather abrupt fashion."

A sudden breeze blew from behind the group. As Harry and Spaz reflexively dropped to the ground to avoid the attack, Roxy unsheathed his katana and swung the back of the blade at the neck of the unknown man only to cut through air as the attacker suddenly dropped through the floor.

There was a moment of stunned silence as the trio stared at the floor that certainly appeared solid enough, though none thought to test it themselves.

"Trap door," Cantora explained. "He probably thought that such a large box as the one we're wheeling around must contain something valuable."

"Huh," Harry thought aloud, ruffling his hair absentmindedly. "For a moment, I thought maybe it was that strange door power you were talking about earlier."

"That's not possible," Roxy explained, "since there can only be one person with a specific devil fruit power at a time."

"Devil fruit?" Spaz asked. "Ne, is the door power a devil fruit thing?"

"Yes," Cantora said, "sorry if I didn't make that clear before, but to be honest, I don't know what else you could have thought it might have been."

Harry shrugged. "A bloodline power? An old artifact? Though I never knew devil fruits were exclusive that way. I guess this means there's no hope of finding another rubber person for advice about Luffy's new situation?"

Roxy spluttered in surprise. "What a minute, someone ate your fruit?"

"Yes sirree," Spaz grinned, "and it was a really funny thing too, how it happened, yes sirree! You see – "

"Spaz," Harry interrupted, "if we're going to tell stories, shouldn't we finish explaining our own to Cantora?" The suggestion was offered lightly but firmly. Openly offering the information of a child with superhuman powers located on an island that was defenseless but for a sea monster that hibernated on and off was much too dangerous; it was better to keep quiet.

"Oh, right," Spaz nodded enthusiastically. "So, so, Cantora, whatcha wanna know?"

"Well, how about how come three people who aren't part of Shanks' crew are traveling on Red Hair's ship?" she started. "And this place looks like it's getting a decent amount of traffic. We could set up here if you like, though are you sure you don't need any props? Most magicians have a ridiculous amount of necessary tools for their tricks."

"No need," Harry confirmed. "My magic is simple. Its entertainment value lies solely in its impossibility. As for my and Spaz's presence aboard the famous pirate ship, well, Shanks invited me into his crew, but we were hesitant about proclaiming ourselves pirates, so we're more like hired hands working for room and board. Roxy's just tagging along for this one trip because he's the one who knew where to find this place."

Roxy rolled the wooden box into the place Cantora choose while Harry stared in resignation.

"Merlin," he muttered. "It's not like I've ever done an actual show before," he complained to himself as he tapped the wood and flicked his wand into his grasp, deciding that it wouldn't be too strange for a performing magician to wield a magic wand. Heaving himself atop the crate, he looked around of the milling people. First things first – he needed to attract attention.

Lots of attention.

No one said it aloud back on the ship, nor did Roxy and Spaz say anything about it after docking, but it was clear that the goal of this spontaneous adventure was to make contact with Old Man Merchant and possibly see what the legend could offer in a trade. After seeing exactly how huge the area of possibility was, Harry was only just starting to realize what a large undertaking this goal truly was. Winning a bunch of battle tournaments was one way to catch the eye of the man who ran the whole show, but Harry could certainly give his own best shot now that a path has been offered.

"Avis!" the wizard yelled, tropically colored parakeets soaring into the air. As the birds flew up over his head in a choir of chirps, Harry transfigured one into a wizard's hat which he them placed firmly upon his head. "May the magic begin!"

Every person in the vicinity was stunned by the sudden appearance of flying colors and turned towards the source. Suppressing a cringe at the idea that he was actual actively attracting attention, Harry focused on running his mind through spells with affects he knew muggle magicians were capable of.

Having the large box certainly lent a degree of possibility to disappearing acts, not to mention the ever favorite human pincushion act. Conjurations were also common enough at magic shows, and he could certainly employ the hover and color-changing charms he used to entertain Spaz and Shanks that day aboard Zeb. Actually, didn't Hermione teach him the flame-freezing charm? He was pretty sure there were some pyromaniacs out there capable of walking through fire. He'd try to avoid "snake charming" though, since his parseltongue vocabulary was still limited.

As long as no one expected him to explain how a muggle pulls off such tricks, Harry could do this.

Flopping down onto the box, Harry tapped it with his wand to transfigure the material to a less flammable plastic before conjuring stick after stick, littering them around him. A quick cooling charm to tide him over, then an Incendio, followed quickly by a flame-freezing charm and Harry was sitting in the middle of a bonfire to the oohs and ahhs of the crowd. A carefully controlled hover charm lifted the box about a foot into the air and slowly turned it in a circle, eliciting applause which Harry allowed to fade before lowering his stage back down.

Whispering an impermeable charm over himself, the wizard swung back to his feet. "Aguamenti," Harry intoned, holding his wand above his head so that the water rained back down and doused the flames, leaving himself dry but surrounded by waterlogged ashes.

Leaping lightly off his stage, the performing magician swept his hat off with a bow. "Welcome," he grinned. "At this point, I don't suppose any of you would like to volunteer to help me with the next trick?"

"May I?" a woman in the crowd asked.

"Amy," another voice snapped in disapproval. "You shouldn't volunteer for such suspicious things." It was a male standing beside her and using a hand on her shoulder to discourage her from approaching the open clearing of the crowd.

Harry smiled and approached the two. "There's no reason you can't both participate," the wizard compromised, eyeing the man's sword strapped to his back. "As a matter of fact, I have the perfect trick for the two of you. Come on."

Harry returned to his crate and opened it. "Let's see, there's not much in this box but some empty barrels," he narrated to the crowd. "If I take them out," he continued, while acting on his suggestion, "I bet I could fit in here. Now when I close the lid over my head," he explained, "my assistant here," Harry pointed to Spaz, "is going to count aloud to ten. At that time," he said, addressing the swordsman, "please feel free to stab the container however way you like. Just please try not to destroy the thing as we wish to preserve the mystery, no? When you are finished, please let my assistant know. He will count to ten again and the lovely lady," Harry turned to grin at the woman, mentally squirming under the glare her companion was leveling towards him, "shall open the box. What shall be revealed, we will soon find out! Let's begin!"

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, circling the figurative stage as they looked on. The female volunteer looked a little nervous, but the male seemed willing enough to get the whole spectacle over with soon. Harry lowered himself into the box and closed the lid. Casting a disillusionment charm on himself, he shifted into a ghost and crawled out of the box while Spaz counted, encouraging the crowd to do the same.

Harry could only be grateful – it was the kind of thing Spaz naturally was good at. Involving the audience in something so simple was an idea Harry never would have considered. In the time available, the wizard tentatively perused the crowd, looking for inspiration. He was a little worried about bumping into a haki user, but since armaments haki was rarely used outside a fight, Harry felt safer walking through a large crowd of relaxed watchers than staying inside a box at the mercy of a single attacker.

The sound of a blade tearing through wood could be heard in the background, along with the joking pieces of advice from the audience to stab through the center, or try to cut at an angle to hit the unseen target.

Harry had seen a muggle magic show before. After the war, of course, since the Dursleys never would've brought the freak with them to something so fun and "expensive." It was absolutely breathtaking what a muggle was capable of without a spark of real magic, and he felt a little guilty pretending to be of the same type through his shortcut cheats, but soon pushed that thought out of his mind. After all, it wasn't as though he was taking business from any hardworking magicians aboard the ship. All the performances he saw on the way to this open clearing were martial arts acrobatics or dancing.

In the end, Harry couldn't think of anything flashy and just charmed some trouser pockets different colors. As Spaz counted towards the end, the wizard sank himself back into the box, shifted back into physical form, and dispelled the disillusionment charm. The lid creaked open, revealing to Harry the young woman with a nervous expression that quickly melting with relief at the sight of the magician's wellbeing. He stood to loud applause, bowing deeply followed by a yawn.

"Well," he smacked his lips and rubbed an eye as if to drive away fatigue. "I had the strangest dream. Would those in the crowd with empty pockets please humor an eccentric sorcerer and flip them inside out?"

There was murmuring again, this time in confusion, but most were willing to play along and soon there were exclamations of shock as a few discovered their trouser pockets suddenly a vibrant red or blue.

"Marvelous," Harry announced, falling into an imitation of Albus Dumbledore, whose grandfatherly persona was the easiest to adopt in an attempt to sound a little mad but still friendly. "Now for my next trick I'll need the selected people to join me up here."

The crowd shuffled around as the selected persons – all male this time to prevent further bouts of possessiveness – approached the front of the crowd in preparation for when Harry called upon them.

"Now, I'm afraid I've a bit of a problem. Alas, this box is in no condition for further rough treatment," Harry sighed dramatically, patting the wooden crate affectionately. "So I was thinking of moving the cuts from it onto the more useless barrels over here," Harry gestured, moving the barrels around slightly in a rectangle about the same size as the crate. "What do you think?" he asked rhetorically.

Concentrating hard on the feel of cotton cloth, Harry conjured two large white tablecloths and laid them over the crate and barrels, freezing them stiff with an immobulus charm as discretely as he could. Tapping his wand on the crate, Harry waved his wand from the crate to the barrels, muttering a repairing charm followed by a switching charm. The freezing charm kept the cloth shape from giving away the results of the last spell, and Harry dispelled the cloth that now covered barrels and immediately pulled it away with a wide flourish of his arm.

"Voi- ! Bloody hell," he cursed, feigning shock and confusion as he looked between the barrels and the covered object behind him. "Huh, I guess I moved a bit too much. Then," he wondered aloud, walking to the covered crate and dispelling the immobulus as he tore that sheet away as well, revealing the pristine wooden box. "Then where did the cuts go?" he asked, taking his hat off and scratching his head to disguise the severing charm he cast into his hair which fell away in clumps.

Harry looked down as the hair on the floor, made a show of dragging his fingers through his now patchy hair, and then jammed his hat back on his head sheepishly. "How embarrassing," he muttered in a stage whisper. "Let's move on, right? Red pockets to my right and blue to my left please."

The men took their places amongst the audience's chuckles and applause over the latest trick.

"Now, how many of you have ever experienced being sawed in half?"

A/N: Yay magic! Yeah, this'll probably be my only detailed story-telling of Harry performing as a magician, because I really started running out of ideas for plausible magic tricks towards the end. Maybe when he relearns parseltongue?

Thanks again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings.

Kimay: I'm glad you like the story! I'll try to keep it action-filled :) Ah, tape. It'd probably be easier for Harry to just use a Langlock jinx. As for sugar-high Spaz, uh, you know, with all the sugar Harry's been cooking, I'm surprised no one's tried to kill him yet XD Thanks for the review!

588 reviews 11/17/11


	33. Chapter 33: Legendary Trades

A/N: It's been ages, I know, I'm sorry :(

For Pirate Conqueror readers, I have a note for you guys at the bottom.

Chapter 33

Legendary Trades

As darkness fell, the crowd around Harry only continued to grow since only the magician provided light to illuminate his show for his viewers, conjuring blue-bell flames to dance in a circle around him. It was, perhaps, a dangerous ability to show off, but by that point, all the members of the audience were so thoroughly mesmerized by the tricks Harry was displaying, he didn't think adding one impossible trick would matter much.

It wasn't until past midnight that the people began to scatter, either to their beds or to join the scenic wares more typical of nighttime.

When the last person left, Harry flopped to the ground with a tired groan. "I am never doing that again."

Spaz yawned. "Aw Harry, but it was so cool, yes s- ," the boy yawned again, "yes sirree," he finished.

Roxy chuckled, putting the barrels away into the wooden crate and preparing to wheel everything away. The tablecloths had "flown away" as part of a later dove trick, the fate all of Harry's conjured props eventually fell to, and so the former marine finished quickly before turning to Cantora who stood with one of her baskets filled with money. At some point early on in the show, she dumped her groceries in with her carvings and, with the emptied out container, became the unofficial collector of money from those who wished to show their appreciation for the entertainment. "Thanks for all your help and information," he said, "though you needn't have stayed the whole time. I imagine you must be tired after standing so long."

Cantora didn't answer. Instead, she walked over to where Harry laid and calmly stated, "Those weren't just tricks."

Harry blinked a moment, looking up at the girl's silhouette, the light of his blue-bell flames dancing across her still face. "Well, I'm, er, flattered?"

"Do you believe in prophecy?" she asked, choosing to ignore Harry's attempt to continue the pretense.

Harry scowled. "I hate them."

Cantora smiled in return. "Meet me here again tomorrow. I would like to negotiate another trade with you."

"Er, alright," Harry agreed, more than a little confused by the other's behavior. "That private show you talked about earlier, right?"

Cantora left, and after another moment on the ground, Harry heaved himself up as well and walked joined Roxy and Spaz in walking back to the pirate ship.

"… She just made off with the money, didn't she?"

"Quite a late night," Beckman greeted Spaz and Harry, Roxy having already returned to his own ship.

"Tell me about it," Harry groaned. He patted down his robes a few times before finding his earnings from the ice cream stand. "Here," he tossed the bag of coins at the pirate. "You're the unofficial treasurer of this unorganized organization, yeah?"

Beckman caught the bag and lightly tossed it a few times to examine the weight. "You made quite a bit, it seems. Still, as pirates, we aren't exactly into the whole legally earned cash."

Harry waved his hand a few times in the air. "Then use it to restock the kitchen for me. We sure as hell could use another fridge."

"Another fridge would be awesome, yes sir-" Spaz yawned again, "-ree."

"Go to bed Spaz," Harry suggested. "We have to wake up early tomorrow to make breakfast."

Spaz nodded tiredly in agreement and left, leaving Harry with Beckman.

"So I'm going to come right out and ask," the wizard said. "I don't suppose you had any luck finding this merchant guy?"

Beckman shook his head. "Nothing just yet. It's only been a day though," he commented optimistically, lighting up a cigarette. "Sooner or later we'll catch his eye, though later probably means the captain will get into some sort of trouble and then the person in charge will have to come out just to keep his ship intact."

"Haha, wow, is Shanks really that bad?"

"You have no idea. Did you know that some marines are talking of making the title of Yonkou an official pirate label?"

Harry shrugged. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure what the heck's going on around that title. Spaz used it once to describe Shanks, and so has Roxy, but the other Blue marine didn't recognize it and nobody at our headquarters had even heard of the Red-Haired pirates."

"It started as a label for Whitebeard, Roger's old pirate rival. After Roger, he was seen as the next in line as Pirate King. There's been a couple of other pretty strong pirate crews popping up every once in awhile, so the one king has been the three, or four, or five emperors, depending on the current situation of the pirate activities," Beckman explained. "Some marine in the Grand Line found out that Captain once sailed with Roger and added him to a list of four. It stuck pretty quickly with a select few people, but who knows what will happen later."

"So is this notoriety a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Well," the first mate chuckled around his light, "the captain likes it. I have to say, a bit more infamy would be helpful right about now in attracting Old Man Merchant's attention."

Harry leaned back against the railing and broke into a yawn himself. "Is this merchant really someone so great? Earlier it seemed Shanks chose to come here on a whim 'cause he was bored, not out of real interest."

"Someday," Beckman predicted with a grin, "you'll realize that the captain taking interest in anyone famous for something as academic and peaceful as trading goods is a pretty big deal."

The two bid each other farewell and Harry dragged himself to his hammock, barely flicking up his wards before sleep overtook him.

_"Old Man Merchant is a legendary person, you know? It's not just his ship that's mysterious. That kind of thing you see enough of in the Grand Line. The person himself, though. If you offer something valuable enough, the possible returns are both astounding and frightening…"_

_ "Did you hear? Some pirate traded with Old Man Merchant for the names of every marine officer scheduled to patrol the northwest corner of North Blue for the coming month…"_

_ "The rumors are at it again! I overheard at the bar that some rookie pirate actually managed to get a meeting with the Old Man. Obviously he's not telling just what it was he did to get that kind of attention. How do you feel about giving him a little motivation to spill the beans, eh? Heheh…"_

_ "One cannon shot fired into a five ship fleet of pirates resulted in a quarter million beli haul for a single bounty hunter after he delivered all the bodies. Apparently, when the bounty payment office asked how he did it, he said to ask Old Man Merchant for the gun powder recipe. The bounty hunter quit the business after that…"_

_ "Sir, the plan was underway as scheduled with the dozen marine ships encircling the target when a rapidly spreading mist suddenly enclosed the area. It is believed to have been the work of a devil fruit as the only ship with limited visibility was the one ship equipped with a sea-stone bottom, sir. Even then, none of the soldiers could see beyond its deck. All ships were connected through the den den mushi network, staying in a circle tight enough that the Merchant's large vessel could not possibly sail through us, sir. The mist dissipated the next morning, sir, and the target was nowhere in sight. Shooting cannon shots revealed the vessel was indeed gone and not rendered invisible. Sir, the conclusions I have come to after this failed mission is 1: there is an information leak amongst our ranks; 2: the Merchant has access to an unknown form of travel; 3: the Merchant has a communication network extensive enough to pull in favors from the Grand Line as current intelligence places the Mist devil fruit user as a Sabaody Archipelago resident; 4: the Merchant has a strange sense of humor. This morning, the Merchant applied to pay his trade taxes at the South Blue tax office on the other side of the world…"_

Harry rubbed his eyes as he awoke, voices still rattling around in his head. As far as visions went, that was a bit different from the more visual flashes he was used to. Still, all those stories certainly instilled in him a sense of respect for this merchant character.

The young man rolled out of his hammock to start the day in the kitchen as usual. There was nothing quite like the smell of fresh bread in the morning.

"Morning, Kid," Shanks greeted, as Harry set out breakfast.

"Morning, old man," Harry returned before slipping back into the kitchen, smirking at the pirate's indignant protests followed by whining complaints to Spaz who was putting out silverware.

"So how was your day?" Harry inquired when all the pirates found their seats and dug into their meal.

"Not bad," Shanks replied between large mouthfuls of egg. "Yassop, of course, won the target shooting match and Beckman's team won the group fighting tournament. The swordsmanship competition was a joke. I think today I'll try just entering the whole crew into the battle royale. How about you then, Kid, Boy? You two went with Roxy to sell ice cream, yeah?"

"Oh it was awesome," Spaz exclaimed, "yes sirree, we sold all the ice cream, and, and, we met this really nice lady called Cantora and she explained how easy it would be do a performance instead so me and Roxy convinced Harry to do a magic show, and, and, wow it was so cool, yes sirree, 'cause Harry lit himself on fire and made birds come out of nowhere and, and – "

"Breathe, Spaz," Harry reminded.

"Aw man," Shanks whined, "I want to see it too!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "And like I said at the end yesterday, I am never doing that again. At least, not on such a ridiculous scale. I entertained an audience for no less than twelve hours which was nothing short of exhausting, and Cantora made off with the money, too."

"Can't you do a small show for the crew?" the pirate captain wheedled.

"Ask me some other time," the wizard sighed. "I promised Cantora something similar, anyway."

"Cantora eh? You know, you two have mentioned her a few times now. Is she pretty?"

Harry smacked the teasing man across the arm. "Oh, that's right." He dug around in his pocket a bit before finding the sea horse statue that looked like Frank. "There you go; Cantora gave it to us. You might as well have it, since we paid her back mainly by confirming the rumors you were here."

"It's Frank!" Shanks exclaimed, turning the wooden object around and around in wonder. "That's really neat."'

Seeing the man sufficiently distracted, Harry gestured towards Spaz and the two began to clean up. They had a meeting with Cantora – one she was very much interested in if she was willing to hold yesterday's earnings hostage – and needed to wake up Roxy. Apparently the man believed in "beauty sleep" and never woke up in time for breakfast. He and Kor would, instead, eat a handful of whatever on the way to wherever it was they were scheduled to be that day. Recently though, that "whatever" was often a fresh loaf of bread Harry prepared for them and today was no different.

"Rise and shine!" Spaz called out, leaping off the pirate ship onto the smaller ship Roxy and Kor occupied. Harry followed in a more normal fashion, hopping from ladder to ladder to close in on the boat before jumping on. Living on a ship has trained him to be more nimble, but the wizard didn't believe he could ever manage to walk on thin air as Spaz could.

Some grumbling later, Roxy joined Harry and Spaz on their way back to the spot Cantora requested to meet at again. Kor once more stayed behind to watch the ship. After all, Shanks had some of his crew do the same and neither of the former marines trusted the pirates not to root around their things out of boredom and habit.

When the trio arrived at the area Harry performed at yesterday, they found Cantora sitting there on a large square tablecloth with small logs stacked in a pile beside her, tools scattered around, and a fluffy pile of wood shaving growing in front of her as she worked with the object in her hands. Every once in a while, someone would stop by to watch her work before moving on; children in particular seemed particularly fascinated before worried parents pulled them away, clearly afraid for their safety so far from the borders despite the many protests of bad guys never successfully attacking the 'pretty toy carving lady.'

"Good morning, Cantora," Harry greeted, crouching down to the young woman's level for a better look at her workmanship. Harry had learned wood-working before, but his skill was far exceeded by Cantora's, who lightly shaved away at the material in her hands with a small knife, revealing round contours, that fluffed out into wings and slowly separated into individual feathers, ruffled by some passing wind.

"Good morning, Harry," she replied. "I'm glad you've come so early."

Harry shrugged. "I had no other plans, and seeing as you were willing to take yesterday's collected money as unofficial hostage, I figured whatever it was you wished to talk about must be important."

Cantora laughed. "Kye-kehkeh, yes, that was a bit of a, hmm, spur of the moment idea, but I really didn't want you skipping out on that private showing you promised me."

"Please cut to the chase," Roxy grumbled around his mouthfuls of bread. "I don't see why you want a private magic show after watching the entirety of yesterday's performance. I doubt Harry has any tricks left, anyway."

"Oh, I'm quite sure there's far more to him than he openly revealed, isn't that so, Harry?" she asked rhetorically, placing her finished work – a strange bird with a large head decorated by an even larger beak and a wavy frill up top – into her pocket, before starting to gather the tablecloth by its corners to bundle everything away in a makeshift sack. "There are several reasons why I don't believe you a just a skilled trickster and illusion, Harry."

The three men stiffened slightly at this comment and watched the female through thinned eyes.

"What gave me away?" Harry asked with forced nonchalance.

Cantora laughed. "Kye-keh! What didn't? Actually, the first thing that struck me as strange was how you didn't automatically assume that the door power I explained was a devil fruit ability, offering instead the alternative options of a bloodline power or an artifact; that your friend here also failed to make that assumption can only mean that one of you has this alternative source of power and has shared the information with the other."

She swung the sack over her shoulder and walked towards then past the men.

"Next would be the discrepancy between your performance of flawless tricks yesterday and your claim that you have never before performed. Considering your show's presentation and its many awkward pauses, I'm more inclined to believe the latter. However, you used a great number of random volunteers and needed absolutely no preparation time for any of your tricks – something that even veteran performers would be hard-pressed to accomplish. For goodness sake, your main prop had been an ice cream stand not half an hour beforehand."

Cantora paused for a moment, one hand raised to her forehead as she gazed up towards the sky.

"The tricks themselves also raised questions, of course. On an open ship you have no connections with, you were able to 'switch out' large crates and barrels, pull out large sheets of cloth from thin air, create heatless fire both red and blue, and the birds! So many birds and yet there're no signs of them ever having existed in just a few hours. I had my men searching, you know. Of all five dozen of them only one reported spotting an example of the colorful bird used for your opening, only to watch it disappear into thin air. He's very insistent he didn't blink."

"Your men?" Harry echoed weakly.

"I even had a few of them evacuate and examine the performance area when you left, for clues as to how you did managed it all. Needless to say, they found nothing," the woman continued, ignoring Harry's question. "And the few informants I could contact on such short notice have yet to return with an explanation for how you managed to change the colors of stranger's clothing."

"Evacuate? Under who's authori-, informants! You -," Harry stuttered, before clamping his mouth shut, breathing deep through his nose, and starting again. "I have to say, you're much younger than the rumors."

"Oh, no, those rumors are mostly right," Cantora admitted, "but a youthful appearance is actually a very accessible good when you know the right people."

Roxy gaped at the information overflowing from between the lines of the conversation. "You're - ?"

"Uh-uh-ah!" the woman interrupted, wagging a finger in front of her. "Don't say it. Just follow me if you're interested in what I have to offer."

The three men trailed dazedly behind her as she marched onward, creating a comical parade led by a young woman with a large sack, triggering snickers as the onlookers joked amongst themselves if the males were being lured by either treasure or feminine wiles. Harry, Spaz, and Roxy paid them no mind.

When a legend as great as Old Man Merchant offers an opportunity for a trade, the rest of the world falls by the wayside.

A/N: Three chapters back, I totally did not see this coming, did you see this coming? I did not see this coming... Meh, I'm discovering that I like gender confusion, I mean, first Spaz, and now Cantora, and neither of them planned -_-;;;

FOR READERS OF PIRATE CONQUEROR: I've lost contact with my beta :( So this story will pause for two weeks if I don't hear back at which point I will simply update with the unbeta'ed chapter. Sorry about that.

And sorry for not replying to reviews! I received so many wonderful reviews for the last chapter - yay for magic lovers! - but after a month and with this new chapter going up today anyway, I simply had not much to say.

And of course, thanks again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings, for her work on this chapter.

12/16/11 with 623 reviews!

Thanks everyone :)


	34. Chapter 34: Visions

A/N: Uh, yeah, long time no see?

Chapter 34

Visions

"Have you ever seen the future?" Cantora asked as the group traveled deeper towards the center of the ship.

"Not seen as in a vision," Harry admitted, "only once as a spoken prediction," he continued, thinking back to the day he told Nico Robin she'd find friends who would support her dreams. 'And,' he thought to himself with bitterness more out of habit than real emotion, 'through another's prophecy.' That was long past however, so he shook himself out of such thoughts and focused on the present. "Are there people who can?"

"With some help, yes," Cantora told him, when suddenly the floor opened up beneath them. With startled yelps, the men tumbled to the floor while the young woman slid calmly down a well-placed ramp.

Looking around, Harry could see that other than the wooden ceiling that had already swung closed over their heads and the few flickering torches around them, the rest of the room they'd fallen into was made of metal, likely steel.

"This way," Cantora urged them as she walked towards a wall. Placing a hand on the silver material a square door appeared, easily large enough for them all to walk through.

Inside this larger room, almost everything was made of metal, though hanging from the ceiling shone a large chandelier, and the floor and walls were lined with either greenery or shelves. It was clear that the only way in or out of this strong hold was through the use of Cantora's unique power to create a doorway.

"On Fishman Island there is a young mermaid who can see visions of the future with the power of haki," Cantora spoke, closing the door and sealing them inside as she approached a covered shelf. "However, her Color of Observation, though strong, is not enough to see something significantly far away from the present. What concentrates her supernatural talent with haki is a rare item she only happened to stumble upon while exploring the seas around her home." The woman created a new door into the sealed shelves and pulled out a large orb, clear as crystal but for the pearl sheen visible from certain angles in the light.

She set the ball carefully down on a cushioned chair and turned to Harry. "My request is that you use it to try and see my future."

"That is so cool, yes sirree!" Spaz gushed, bouncing on his feet while leaning towards the gleaming sphere, not quite daring to step closer but clearly fascinated by its power.

Harry reached a hand out and caressed the air around it, refraining from contact as he relaxed in the chatter of his excited friend.

"I'm not exactly a fan of divination," he slowly sounded out. "I'm well aware of the reality of fortune-telling, but I'm mostly of the belief that any good that may come of knowing the future often holds a high price."

"I'm aware of that," Cantora replied, dismissing Harry's worries. "The young mermaid I mentioned is certainly not very happy seeing disasters in her visions. But that shouldn't matter so much for me. Do you have any idea how old I am?"

This time Roxy answered, having a greater knowledge of the Old Man Merchant legend from his old job. "It's been theorized that you've been a man of trade for nearly eighty years now."

"Close enough," Cantora shrugged, "though originally this business was a family trade. Eighty-five years ago, I ate the Door fruit to my merchant father's horror. A decade later, my ability became his business' most valuable trade secret, because he could ship goods faster than any other merchant in North Blue. I inherited this island of a ship from him about half a century ago, I suppose, and I've been the so called Old Man Merchant ever since.

"So you see," she continued, running a hand through her rusty brown hair that didn't show a hint of the grey expected of one over eighty five years old, "I'm not nearly the age I appear, and as I get farther on in the years, I worry more about what will become of my business. I have no children, and all protégés I've attempted taking on cannot handle my, hmm, empire is a good enough word, though a bit grandiose. What I wish to know is how much time I have left to either find a capable heir or disassemble everything."

"Time of death," Harry whispered. "What a morbid thing to look for," he muttered. His mind vacillated between his curiosity to know if it was even possible to direct a vision towards a specific event and his own dislike of prophesized deaths. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be seeing anything so specific as her actual day of death, however, and so his hand glided over the pearl-like surface of the crystal ball and a scene appeared.

_The room is an empty bar, with shelves filled with bottles of different colors. Standing in front of the shelves is a large man with a square jaw and hair fashioned like a bull's horns. He is cleaning a glass with the bottom of his apron with a blank expression on his face. When he is satisfied, he turns around towards a wall where a calendar is displayed. Harry only just barely read the year – 1517AOP – when the bartender places his empty hand over it and pushes. A circular door appears, opening up into a cupboard of beer tankards. His cleaned glass joins them before the door closes and disappears._

"Harry? Harry!, Harry, Harry, Harryharryharry – "

Harry startled a step back and shook his head clear. "Yeah S'hpaz, wha's wron'?" he slurred.

"You totally blanked out for almost ten minutes, Harry, are you sure you're okay? Has that ever happened before, 'cause I don't think it's ever happened before, and really that was freaky when you didn't blink at all, no sirree, you didn't, and –"

"I'm fine, Spaz," Harry reassured him, blinking a few times. Now that he thought about it, his eyes were rather dry. Had he really been out of it for ten minutes? The vision seemed barely thirty seconds long.

"Well?" Cantora inquired eagerly, reaching over to grasp Harry's hands. "Did you see it? How long?"

Harry thought back to what he'd seen. "Only one person can have a devil fruit ability at a time, so is there a way to lose your ability?"

"As far as current research knows, death is the only way for a power to be lost. After a user dies, the fruit is reborn somewhere, free for the taking by another," Roxy explained.

"I see," Harry sighed. "Then, I'm afraid you have less than five years. In 1517, a bartender will create a door in a wall to put away a clean glass."

Cantora drew back in shock. "Less than five years? Kami-sama above, less than five years! I suppose there's nothing for it. I'll have to start scaling back business as soon as possible." She started mumbling under her breath, pushing open doors at seemingly random locations and pulling out timetables, schedules, inventory lists, den-den-mushi, and a pile of unfamiliar objects she arranged over a large steel block.

"Is there really no way to narrow it down further?" the woman asked, flipping simultaneously through a planner and an address book.

Harry shook his head. "To be honest, I'm surprised I could see such a clear vision of anything over a week or two into the future. Fate isn't something set in stone, there are just certain major events that are inevitable as a result of past events. Everyone's death, for example, is inevitable. Considering how valuable devil fruits are, it's inevitable that your power will be found by another and used. My guess is that whether you die in an accident or of old age, these two events will occur in such a way to bring about the vision I saw, but not much else can be predicted. Does that make any sense?"

But Cantora was no longer paying much attention to him, having received an answer when Harry shook his head in the negative.

"Ah, um, go on and use the ball for as long as you wish," she hurriedly offered, before opening a door into the steel block in front of her and pulling out a bag that she threw at them. "Here are you're earnings from yesterday. Just let me know when you want to leave." And with that, she turned back towards her own business.

Harry, Roxy, and Spaz traded glances before turning back to the crystal ball, just staring at it for a moment. What the heck were they going to look for?

"Red-hair is going to be so jealous," Roxy smirked, running a hand through his hair to sweep it back, admiring his own reflection in the large orb.

"He can be rather childish about such things," Harry agreed. "Sometimes, I don't think he's any older than Luffy."

"Nah," Spaz disagreed, rocking back and forth on his heels. "He's more like Luffy's older brother, yes siree, always teasing him and stuff, yeah?"

Harry chuckled. "I wonder if Luffy's still upset with his older brother." He picked up the orb and watched as another bar appeared, this time the familiar inside of Partys'.

_"They've been away for awhile now," says Makino as she dries a wine glass. "Do you feel lonely, Luffy?" she asks the boy before her._

_ Luffy is sitting at the bar on a tall stool with a glass that was empty but for a few ice cubes."Nope," he denies. "I haven't forgiven them for the bandit incident yet! I overestimated Shanks. I thought he was a tough pirate. What a disappointment."_

_ "Really?" Makino smiles. "I think people who can laugh it off after being picked on are pretty brave."_

_ "That's because you don't understand," Luffy pouts, balancing his cup on its edge with his mouth. "There are times when a man should fight back!"_

_ "Oh?" Makino laughs good-naturedly as she humored the child's moodiness. "I guess I don't know much about this sort of thing."_

_ "That's right," Luffy replied petulantly, "you don't."_

_ "Excuse me."_

_ Makino and Luffy glance towards the door of the bar at the incoming customer only to gape at the familiar face of Higuma, the mountain bandits' leader._

_ "Well, looks like the pirates aren't here today," Higuma states with a grin. "It sure is quiet." He steps forward, leading his band of men into the bar and seated themselves with no further ceremony. "What are you waiting for?" he barks, slamming a hand down on the table with a loud bang. "We're customers. Bring us some sake!"_

_ "Yes, of course," Makino quickly replies and soon the bar is filled with the drunken laughter of bandits as they guzzld beer and wine._

_ "Remember the expression on those pirates' faces the other day?" they laugh._

_ "He didn't even say anything after getting hit by a bottle."_

_ "What a gutless pansy!"_

_ "When I see a gutless chicken like that," Higuma sneers, "it just makes me so mad. I really wanted to kill him. Pirates only know how to act cool."_

_ "SHUT UP!"_

_ "Huh?"_

_ "Don't underestimate Shanks!" Luffy shouts, jumping off his stool only to be held back by Makino as he tries to advance forward towards the bandit leader. "He's not a coward!" he yells, ignoring Makino's pleas to 'let it go.' "Don't underestimate Shanks!" he repeats, at such a volume that one wonders if he is instinctively using his rubber body to increase his lung capacity._

_ Luffy continues to scream when Higuma rises from his chair and approaches. Makino gasps in fear as the bandit looms over them. She shoves herself between Higuma and Luffy only to be backhanded to the floor. Luffy is lifted by his collar and tossed out the bar door with a shocked yelp, followed by Higuma and his band._

"Shit," Harry cursed, stumbling backwards. "We have to go."

"What's wrong?" Roxy inquired. "What did you see?"

"Is something going to happen to Luffy? Is he alright? No, wait, it wasn't the bandits again, was it?" Spaz asked, shooting out questions rapid fire.

"Cantora!" Harry called out. "We need to go."

"Go?" Cantora blinked. "Are you sure? You've barely used the pearl at all. Though, I suppose I wouldn't be averse to the idea of you coming back tomorrow for another session, but –"

"There won't be a next time," Harry interjected. "And if we make it in time for what I saw then I assure you've more than paid back any services I've performed for you, so if you please take us back to the docks?"

"If you're in that much of a hurry, then follow me," Cantora acquiesced, holding a bent arm out to her side. With her hand raised flat, she pushed the air, and a door formed out of the empty space, opening into a dark void. The merchant stepped forward to straddle the two sides, waving the others in with her other hand.

Having no other options, Harry, Spaz, and Roxy walked through the door, followed by Cantora who let the door swing close behind them.

"Now if I recall correctly," Cantora muttered to herself, holding her arm up once more, this time above her head against the strange black light that surrounded them, "Red-hair Shanks is docked at unit G, subunit Ram, space number 16." She pushed, and a door swung up and over, revealing a square of sky.

The mismatched group of four clambered up to find themselves on the deck once more, behind an abandoned grilled kabobs stall. On the other side of the stall floated Roxy's and Shanks' ships. Surprisingly, the crew could be seen rushing towards them as well.

"Ah! Kid, Boy, you're here!" Shanks yelled, pointing at them in surprise. He detoured slightly towards them and skidded to a stop a few feet away. "And this must be your new friend, Cantora! Nice to meet you," he grinned. "These two speak quite fondly of you," he added, clasping Harry and Spaz by the shoulders with a cheeky wink, making Harry roll his eyes and Spaz splutter in protest.

"You as well," Cantora smiled. "Of course, you're quite famous by your own right, Red-hair Shanks."

"You've heard of me?" Shanks asked excitedly. "Awesome!"

"Oi, Shanks," Harry butted in. "Not that it isn't great and all that you're making friends and all, but why are you all coming back so early in such a rush?"

"Ahaha," Shanks laughed nervously. "Well, we might be strategically retreating from what might be a rather large pirate crew who might have threatened to kill everyone aboard this ship because we might've just defeated their team in the battle-royale after which they complained we never would have managed such a feat if their captain was participating to which I might've replied saying that their captain is a coward for not doing so from the start."

Harry, Spaz, Roxy, and Cantora barely had a second to stare in shock at this information when the rest of the crew arrived in a great stampede, yelling at them to hurry up and board the ship.

"Right! Let's go," Shanks chirped. "So long, Cantora," he bid farewell, then grabbed Harry and Spaz by their sleeves and pulled them into a run at the ship.

"Good luck!" Cantora called at them.

Harry looked over his shoulder and waved goodbye. "You too!"

A/N: *sigh*, Merlin, I didn't realize my college class schedule this semester was so killer! I think I've got a flow working out now, though, so I hope to keep updating!

Reviewers:

Kimay: Thanks for you're wonderful(ly long) reviews! Yeah, if you thought chap 33 was a long time coming, sorry about this one... .

To those of you who actually suspected Cantora was the merchant: You guys are scary! Geez, haha, :P

To those of you who were upset that the merchant wasn't Sirius: I'm sorry, but I really don't plan on bringing Sirius into this. _When someone dies, they're dead. Dead people stay dead._ I already defied this big time with Harry's "failed suicide" and it's bugging me enough without bringing anybody else back. I realize there's nothing particularly wrong with believing the Viel didn't actually kill Sirius, but I've read too many fanfics that start with Sirius and end up treating death like some sort of temporary illness you can just bounce back from. I don't want to go there.

GameJunkie7: Yes, yes it's very scary. But also kind of awesome.

Thanks again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings

647 reviews so far, 2/6/12

Thanks everyone for sticking with me!

PS: All of a sudden, I'm getting an influx of alerters for my Supernatural/HP crossover "Witch" that I didn't really plan on continuing. What the heck happened? Did some really popular author favorite it? Was it placed in some really often perused archive? Someone clear up the mystery for me, please!


	35. Chapter 35: Contemplating the Magician

A/N: Uh, I may be coming back! I think... Well, in just another month, school will be out, so at the very least, I'll update again by then .

Chapter 35

Contemplating the Magician

When I first saw the ice cream stand set up by a trio of men discussing the mystery that was me, I couldn't help but want to go over and tease them a little. Certainly, as a child, I never imagined I would be a legend that millions of people would gossip and play detective over. Not to mention, it had been three years and eight months since the last person who sold ice cream left my ship, and she had mostly sold fruity sorbets in wafer cups.

Finding Roxy Blue, former Vice Admiral of the Marines, with a pair of 'unknowns' was a bit of a shock. I have pride in my information network, which combined with the eidetic memory I inherited from my father, meant I knew the faces and names of just about everyone worth having interest in. No matter how hard I stared at the man behind the crate, however, I couldn't place him. Yet surely a relatively young, retired marine of such a high rank wouldn't be helping just anyone sell ice cream?

No, of course not. Though, to be honest, even I wasn't expecting an honest to Kami-sama magician. I have always enjoyed magic shows, but the existence of a real sorcerer excited me mainly because finally I had a candidate that might be able to utilize the Premonition Pearl (I named it myself – quite witty I think). Shirley was a mermaid with a rare talent, but even she could not control which events would be revealed, nor could she tell when her visions would occur. For me, such visions were worse than useless.

My father was a skilled merchant with a rare and valuable gift. He remembered the faces, names, and habits of ever customer and supplier he ever met, endearing himself to them by remembering their family situations and gifting them with their favorite delicacies. He remembered the prices of every good in every town both wholesale and into the final buyer's hands as well as the differences in supply and demand over the changing seasons, maximizing his profit by being in the right place in the right time, rather than through bitter haggling that left the other parties with grudges. He remembered rumors of marine movement, pirate pillaging, bandit brawls, and trader tricks, information which gave him an edge in both navigating the oceans and negotiating with people.

Regardless of all this however, his greatest gift, after he got over the shock of course, was my door power. The day I swallowed a bite of the door fruit was, quite simply, a day of yelling. Yelling for me to spit it out, yelling at me for being so stupid as to swallow a bite of something so vile, yelling at my father for not putting it away properly, yelling at my mother for not watching over me, and yelling out of anger and fear just because there was little else that could be done about the situation. As merchants, a great deal of life is spent on the seas. Losing the ability to swim was very dangerous, and compounding that with the amount of money a devil fruit was worth, my father certainly wasn't very happy with me.

My mother and I were left on land after that event, while my father continued his trade. For the next half dozen years, I learned the many possibilities of my new power beyond opening doors in my bedroom wall to sneak out of the house at night. When my father was confident I could emergency escape falling into the ocean by opening a door in midair to transport me to safety, the family was able to sail together again.

I don't think I need to list the many benefits of instant transport doors for a merchant.

Soon after becoming a renowned merchant of unparalleled speed, my mother died from a marine bullet when our ship was caught in the crossfire of a sea battle. I think this is what triggered my father's indifference in our customer's way of life. He gained a reputation in the underground as someone willing to trade with anyone for the right price as long as the customer wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight with the other clients. Participating in both the information trade and the black market earned him even more profits, and when he bought this island ship that depended on my power for travel, my father finally decided it was time to train me for taking over the business.

When my father passed away, the legend of Old Man Merchant had spread into even the Grand Line, despite the fact that we had never been there. I encouraged these rumors and stories as good marketing for my business. There was no reason to 'update' them either. There are women honored in marines and feared as pirates, but we are still disrespected in many careers, merchant being one of them. By that point, most of my profit came from business conducted through my subordinates anyway.

I am ninety-six years old. Saying it is very odd, since every time I looked in the mirror these past months, the face looking back never appeared more than twenty-five years old. My favorite deal so far – a youthful body. It took some complex trade webs to satisfy the woman, but eventually she agreed to visit the ship every two years before the Migrations to rework my body a new age. I never choose anything older than fifty – too much joint pain after that. Sure, I could choose a youthful body and older appearance, but the contradiction grated on my perfectionist desires for a good disguise.

But changing my body to act and feel a younger age has a negligible extending effect on my actual life span. I never married, and though I've taken on apprentices, they were all more than satisfied to continue on with their own businesses rather than take over mine. Or more accurately, the more they learned, the more intimidated they were of the work my business involved.

Ten minutes. A mere ten minutes between a young man and a large pearl set a limit to my future. I would have less than five years left to live before something would take me to my death.

Less than five years to resolve all my remaining debts.

Less than five years to relocate the hundreds of people who make a living on my ship.

Less than five years to let go of my dozens of loyal subordinates and find them new jobs.

Less than five years to redistribute my wealth and destroy any information too dangerous to fall into unknown hands.

Less than five years until I _die._

It was easy when I first heard the verdict to focus on practical matters, but outside my office… The thought was a bit more terrifying than I had expected.

"Good luck!" I call out as the trio left with their pirate captain friend.

"You too!" the magician replies, and for a moment I feel a surge of irrational bitterness towards the boy. Was he making fun of me, wishing me luck when my fateful end had been determined to occur in less than 1826 days?

I open a door back to my office. When he was in his trance, I remember seeing a bit of smoke swirl in crystal orb. Perhaps I could try and see if his powers called forth an image even I could examine? It would be nice to search for some extra detailed hints myself. After all, I doubt someone with such limited knowledge on devil fruits could give an estimate of how long a person had trained their ability based on their displayed mastery, or would remember to check for hints of what season the vision occurred.

My office is rigged with state of the art security recordings from a collection of den den mushi I had an expert hook up as a single system which fed into contraption of Skypiea dials I use to keep records of important trades. It takes but a few minutes to play back the last hour.

_"Time of death," the magician whispered as his hand danced just above the Premonition Pearl. "What a morbid thing to look for."_

It was, wasn't it? To think, just two hours ago, she had naively believed it would be just another piece of information she could use to calculate her plans around.

_Harry's hand landed on the orb which began to swirl slightly with a strange smoke before clearing away. For the next ten minutes, the crystal ball was decidedly clear but for a few, indecipherable shadows that flickered within its confines._

_ "Harry? Harry! Harry, Harry, Harryharryharry – "_

_ The magician stepped back as his name was called and replied in slurred words._

I smack my hand down with irritation as I realize that I couldn't see anything of the vision Harry had apparently witnessed. Actually, there was little evidence that he had received a vision at all! Maybe he was lying? Maybe I had more than five years after all? In fact, why did I ever believe it was possible to see something nonexistent like the future? I was nothing short of foolish to believe that anything like a silly pearl could strip humans of their free will to choose their futures, right?

I pull out a map of my ship, labeled with yesterday's food stands, performances, and tournament winners.

Yes, there was no need to panic. My world still needed me and I wasn't going to leave it anytime soon.

Just what did I know about this mysterious magician, anyway? His magic was, as far as I could tell, real. There was no definite proof either way though, so perhaps I should look further into that.

He traveled with – and was the likely reason for the early retirement of – Vice Admiral Rock 'Roxy' Blue, the only marine incapable of haki that still managed to be promoted to such a high rank. The magician was familiar with the increasingly infamous pirate, Red-Hair Shanks. His younger companion was, hmm… somewhat familiar. I looked closer at the face on the screen, trying my best to ignore the shockingly yellow hair since that was one feature easily changed with hair dye. Wasn't he the girl wanted by the CP9 as a runaway? Kami-sama above, what was she, uh, he?, doing here? What a ridiculously makeshift group of people.

He called himself Harry, no family name that I noticed, and didn't seem to carry any weapons. Of course, if he was a true magician, then weapons probably were pointless for him. His hair appeared black and his eyes were a very clear green regardless of the lighting. He wore strange clothing, like a simple black dress with long billowing sleeves, though I couldn't quite determine the fabric. The loose-fitting outfit hid his physique, but it was probably safe to assume the short man wasn't very muscular or fat or a busty woman in disguise.

What else did I know? He might be the one to have made the ice cream and toppings, in which case he made very good fruit preserves but less skilled with ice cream. Perhaps he had some limited or specialized experience with cooking? He only heard of my legend a week ago. He's a novice at the information trade, but intelligent enough to pick up the basics with little prompting. He can handle belligerent customers, likely from previous experience in the service industry but also possibly from being good at dealing with irritated children. He has no money troubles, dislikes attention but could play it well if necessary, knew about devil fruits but had yet to take them as 'facts of life,' isn't a pirate but travels with a crew of them, and was mainly interested in Old Man Merchant as a favor to that crew.

A long list of details that said very little. Sherlock Holmes would have problems profiling this person!

_"Is there really no way to narrow it down further?"_

_ "To be honest, I'm surprised I could see such a clear vision of anything over a week or two into the future. Fate isn't something set in stone, there are just certain major events that are inevitable as a result of past events. Everyone's death, for example, is inevitable. Considering how valuable devil fruits are, it's inevitable that your power will be found by another and used. My guess is that whether you die in an accident or of old age, these two events will occur in such a way to bring about the vision I saw, but not much else can be predicted. Does that make any sense?"_

No, it doesn't! I don't remember him saying this, though. When he shook his head no to my question, I zoned out, unwilling to listen to his excuses, but now I wished I hadn't. Maybe I could have requested a clarification.

I rewind the recording to replay the explanation.

_Fate isn't something set in stone…_

I frown. How does one harmonize the beliefs of 'fate not set in stone' and 'seeing the future'?

_Everyone's death, for example, is inevitable…_

I scowl. Alright, even the greatest free will advocates can't argue with that.

_My guess is that whether you die in an accident or of old age, these two events will occur in such a way to bring about the vision I saw…_

Gah! Isn't that too far a leap of logic? Honestly!

I irritably turn off the video and reset the security system before returning to my usual business. I make a note to tell my guards to be more discreet with how they keep the riff-raff away from me. The children have already noticed no one ever attacks me even in the performer's arena. Next week I have an appointment to fulfill my side of a deal to rescue a pirate's wife from a local marine base. The Migration will be occurring sometime next month, so I should contact the usual woman to arrange another appointment for reworking my body.

**Briing, Brrrrring**

"Hello?" I ask, picking up the mouthpiece from my private den den mushi.

"Alice, darling! Is it about time, yet?"

"It's Cantora," I remind her, "but yes, I was just thinking about it. I plan on moving next month, so –"

"Well that's perfect!" she interrupts me. "You know, Mahni, I'm free right now at the usual place if you're willing to pick me up."

"It's Cantora," I sigh, "and sure, one moment."

I open a door and a tall woman of about sixty years steps out. She looks her age, but steps more spryly than one would expect of a civilian that age.

"No windows as usual, hmm, Stephie?" she scolds lightly. "It's no good for you to always be cooped up in here, why I ought to…"

I ignore her usual ranting to examine her. Thinking back, it's clear that she has never tried to hide her age, despite her unique ability to do so whenever she desires.

"So, what age this time, Luli?"

I tilt my head slightly to better observe her wrinkled face. "Why don't you ever de-age yourself?" I ask.

She blinks a bit in surprise at the question, but her expression easily sinks into thoughtfulness. "I suppose I never saw a point. My age is my age. My friends know what it is regardless, my husband doesn't mind my growing old with him, and I feel there's no need to delude myself into thinking I've more years left than I actually do. I keep my work mainly in my joints and muscles so I'm healthy as a young adult, but I feel like I'm tricking myself if I look in the mirror and see someone in their early twenties."

"Deluding yourself into think you've more years than you actually do, huh?" I mutter to myself.

She looks at me with a touch of concern. "Cara, you alright? What's wrong dear?"

"It's Cantora," I reply. "Do you think maybe you could show me how I'm supposed to look?"

"Not a problem dearie," she smiles and pulls out a mirror from the folds of her shirt to hold out in front of my face. Her hands rest on my upper chest and start moving up over my face before pulling through my hair which grew out from the roots several inches.

The wrinkles were expected. My cheeks sagged, my forehead shriveled slightly, my lips thinned, and my eyes were failing me slightly. My hair grew out mostly grey with dull streaks of my original color and my skin took on an unhealthy darkening with age spots under my eyes. Vaguely, I could feel my face chill slightly as my blood circulation slowed and my newly grown 'old' hair is slightly brittle to the touch.

"So, why the sudden interest in your actual age?"

I shift the mirror around, trying to see myself from different angles where my eyes blurred less as I stall my answer. "Thoughts of mortality," I finally reply.

Seeing my actual age made me feel foolish – something that was disturbingly common today. I didn't need a 'premonition pearl' to see my end was coming soon. Despite my economic power, I was still little more than a civilian, physically, with no haki to slow my aging process. It was nothing short of miraculous I lasted this long.

"Coral?"

"It's Cantora," I reply, "and I think, this time, my actual age will be fine for my appearance. If you could instill the same health benefits as yourself, though, that'd be great."

"Of course, not a problem."

My ship I could dock as a semi-permanent island in the middle of East Blue with some careful trade networking if I skipped the Migration. Everything else I could deal with at a distance by den den mushi and postal seagulls.

Maybe, for the last five years of my life, I could change professions. Instead of a legendary merchant, I'll be the crazy unknown old woman adventurer, accompanying a magician, a retired Vice Admiral, an infamous Grand Line pirate, and a runaway CP9 trainee.

A/N: So at some point, whenever she's finished cleaning up business, Cantora will be joining Harry's adventures for whatever time she has left :) Personally, I'm really nervous about this decision, because I've already determined that she has to die within five years, and I've no idea yet how . Gah! But, well, after all the build up about the Merchant, its a little sad that they only get a short vision out of the whole trip, even if it does save Luffy from those bandits.

4/7/12 with 672 reviews!


	36. Chapter 36: Vikings? Pirates?

A/N: Uh... I've really nothing to say. Sorry.

**Chapter 36**

**Vikings? Pirates?**

"Why are we in such a hurry?" Harry asked Beckman as he and Spaz helped the first mate lower the main sail. The other pirates were scrambling around, trying to complete their own chores to hasten raising the anchor.

"Well, the other pirate crew seemed pretty mad," Beckman spoke around his dying cigarette. "We'd like to get into open waters first, so we'll have to be quick in order to beat them in their wrath-induced swiftness." His fingers nimbly untied several knots before he signaled Harry to release the sail together.

"But you know," Spaz yelled up towards them as he bounded his way across the lower pole on the mast to catch the falling sail and tie the corners down. "Shanks doesn't seem the type to ever do strategic retreating, no sirree, so this is really strange, y'know?"

Beckman laughed as he descended from the netting. "True enough," he agreed. "But we aren't really retreating – just finding a more suitable battle grounds. The Captain knows enough by now that it's very rude fighting in places where it's easy to do a great of property damage. Goodness knows Mihawk has pretty much banished us from his island for that very reason. Anyway, we'll be fighting soon enough. Perhaps the two of you should head down below?"

Harry and Spaz traded looks.

"I don't really care," Spaz replied with a shrug. "'Cause it's not like there'd be the same problems as with fighting marines, no sirree, and it's been a long time since I was in a real fight and it might kinda fun, y'know, yes sirree!"

"Then we'll be staying up," Harry decided. "The sooner this fight is over, the better. I've something to tell your captain about hurrying to headquarters. I dare say Luffy's in a spot of trouble," he informed Beckman with a sigh.

Beckman looked at him a little oddly at that, more than likely confused about how Harry could possibly know such a thing when they were sailing a solid week's travel from Luffy's village, but there was no time for clarifications. The sails soon caught wind and the ship was pulling away from the port.

"RED-HAIR!"

The hollered call flew through the distance between the Shanks' ship and the dock where another pirate ship was hastily raising anchor.

"How amusing that you should run from us, the great sea rovers of the North! Who's the coward now?" the voice continued.

Harry scowled a bit at that. Really now, calling Shanks a coward? That was nothing short of ludicrous – the man's vocabulary simply didn't contain the word fear – even if he did understand why it might appear that way what with how Shanks bolted so quickly. Never mind, though, Harry thought to himself. The true reasoning behind Shanks' actions would be obvious soon enough, and both he and Spaz were eager to take advantage of the opportunity to test their skills against some nameless outlaws.

Shanks climbed onto the figurehead of the ship as his crew steered it around to face the approaching vessel.

"Come at me," he challenged, "if you think you don't fit the bill!"

By some unspoken agreement, neither ship fired upon the other, both waiting until side by side on open waters.

The enemy's ship was longer and thinner, and from what Harry could see on the deck, their crew was larger. Particularly of interest though was the captain of the pirate vessel. He was tall and broad, a muscular man with thick facial hair. He was dressed in fur with a red cape and all in all looked a bit more like a Viking lord than a pirate.

_Briing__-__brring, brrring-bbrri-_

Harry gave a little start at the sound coming from his pocket before he realized what it was.

Digging out a small snail, Harry held it in his palm and raised it to eye level.

"Er, hello?" he asked tentatively. He was still a bit confused about how these snail telephone things worked, really (and why the heck did they ring just like the phones back home?). It was also somewhat startling just how many Roxy owned, that he could just hand them out like party-favors.

"Harry!" came the enthusiastic reply, the snail's face contorting itself into an appropriate smile and wink. "Good to know it's working. Mind telling me exactly what your captain plans on doing from here on out? I'd like to know just how far away I should have Kor place us if there's going to be a fight."

"Oh, there's going to be a fight, alright. From the looks of it, the other guy likes a good brawl as much as the next pirate," Harry informed the former marine. "And he's not my captain," he added.

The baby snail, er, den-den-mushi Harry thought they were called, snorted. "Of course not," Roxy placated, as if he could see Harry's current scowl. Who knew, maybe he could through the den den mushi? "Are you staying down below again then? You should've come with us. Watching from afar on deck is bound to be better than waiting in some dark corner to avoid trouble."

"No," Harry denied. "In fact, both Spaz and I will probably take this opportunity to go all out and join the fight. The marine fleets from before have backed off pretty far so there's no worries about attracting attention from them. As for revealing too much to the pirates, well, they're pirates. No one important's going to believe them."

"What? You'll be doing magic?" the snail exclaimed. "Korr!, Korr! Sail us back; I have to go watch Harry do magic!"

Harry groaned. "Don't be ridiculous! What exactly are you supposed to do aboard a ship in the middle of a pirate battle as a former marine who's currently stalking a magician for no other reason than to catch a glimpse of the next trick? Just stay put and watch the fighting through your creepy snails. I know you've got almost the whole ship bugged by now – don't try to deny it! Korr, if you can hear me, keep your foolish former superior in hand!"

"Of course," came the monotone reply after a small scuffle of undecipherable grunts and static where Korr presumably stole the den den mushi from Roxy.

"Neh, do you mean it?" Spaz asked, swinging from the netting above Harry's head as the wizard tucked the now sleeping baby den den mushi back into his pocket.

"About the going all out? I think it's a good idea," Harry replied. "You need the experience I think, if you're ever going to master your Six Styles."

So far, training hadn't been too hard to get for Harry. Greg has continued tutoring the basics in hand to hand combat in addition to the weekly spars from any volunteers in Shanks' crew. Add to that the past few days of sword duels with Roxy and Harry was getting more combat training than even during the war.

Spaz however, seemed reluctant to display his physical prowess to the pirates and kept his training to himself, either during visits to deserted islands, or to late night and early morning practices. The boy didn't hide that he was a Rokoushiki user, but neither did he request any spars with the pirates. He was willing to spar with Harry when offered, but there was only so much a wizard could do to properly challenge a martial artist.

"It would be interesting to see how good I'd be against a pirate, yes sirree, since, y'know, that was kinda the whole point of learning such a difficult style, yes sirree. I'd like to try it out, Harry!" Spaz concluded, growing increasingly more excited at the idea. "Hey, hey, Harry – I bet you can't take down more pirates than me, no sirree, whatcha' think?"

Harry snorted with a grin. "Not a chance. You just watch, Spaz. You're about to see exactly how much of an advantage magic really is when fighting a large mob of muggles."

* * *

With a disillusionment charm in place, Harry used his ghost form to pass through the crowd of brawling bodies to better positions. Every time he emerged in a small clearing behind a group of enemy pirates, the wizard returned to his material form, stunned as many people as he could before they turned around to counter attack, and escaped once more as a ghost. Over a dozen men had fallen victim to this hit-and-run tactic when Harry – quite literally – ran into his match.

"Who was that?" the pirate roared, drawing a sword and sweeping it wide around him in search of the unseen body which collided into his side. Harry cursed and retreated, hoping that the man only used the Color of Armaments and not the Color of Observation as well.

After swiftly scanning his surroundings for a clear space, Harry apparated behind a small group attacking Dino, Al, and Greg. Shifting back to his material body, the wizard opened fire with a series of stunners. With the sudden loss of half their numbers and the resulting confusion, the Red Hair pirates made quick work of the half dozen remaining attackers.

"Harry?" Greg asked out into open air.

"Yep," the wizard confirmed with a silent finite to lose the disillusionment. "How'd you know?"

Greg shrugged. "I'm getting a lot better at the whole Color of Observation thing. That was quite a light show, though," the pirate observed, referring to the red Stupefy's.

Harry shrugged sheepishly at the pointed stare Greg was giving him. The kneazle was out of the bag now – Harry's magical ability goes far beyond what he admitted to that day Greg confronted him.

"I found you, you filthy pirate!" came a familiar voice.

"Bloody hell!"

The Haki user from earlier charged towards Harry with his blade held above his head. The wizard rapidly conjured his own weapon and raised it above his forehead in a reverse-grip to block the attack. Three flimsy throwing blades flew from Harry's other hand towards the attacker's torso, the resulting dodge giving Harry room to breathe.

Backing up while he had the chance, Harry vanished his sword and carefully reconjured it. Objects created spur of the moment had a nasty tendency to be weak and short lived. If Harry was going to be involved in a sword duel – and it was looking like he'd have to since his ghost power was useless in escaping a Haki user – he wanted a proper weapon.

Readjusting his grip on his double-bladed sword, the pirate looked calculatingly at Harry, planning his next attack. The man was taller than the wizard, and more muscular too, but not overly so. His lean structure allowed for better agility, as favored by swordsmen, and his brown hair was cropped short to keep out of his hazel eyes.

Narrowing said eyes, the pirate lunged forward with a thrust which Harry easily parried and followed up with a pair of throwing knives. His opponent merely raised an armored fist and punched them away. Harry had little time to do anything but scowl at how easily his second attack was neutralized when the enemy sword swung from the side. A diagonal block deflected it, but was soon followed by a horizontal cut to the neck. Slash after slash, cut after cut, the pirate released a barrage of attacks on the wizard.

Both fighters wielded their weapons with one hand, but Harry was still the weaker man and was forced on the defensive. Theoretically he could make up for this deficit by catching his opponent off balance with random attacks from throwing knives, but from such close quarters, it was hard throwing them with enough momentum to pierce the thick leather hide the pirate wore wherever wasn't covered with fur. Merlin, wasn't he hot in all that?

It was just as Harry was mentally bemoaning his inability to cast spells with his left hand when an arm snaked around his waist and _pulled_. Within seconds, Harry tumbled to the ground nearly a dozen meters away from his fight.

"Are you alright, Harry, I'm sorry, I couldn't really control the Shave too well with the change in weight but you aren't hurt are you, I'm sorry, really, Harry, I didn't mean it but-"

"Spaz!" Harry interjected loudly when he got his breathe back. "I'm fine, really, but why -?"

The boy fidgeted a bit. "Well," he bit out, "it looked like you were losing."

Harry snorted. "Okay, well, maybe I was, but really Spaz? Pulling me out of the fight? You realize I could've dropped my sword to attack with magic if things got too out of hand?"

"Oh, right, well, I knew that, yes sirree, but, y'know, I wasn't sure you'd have the space to do something like that when he was attacking so close and you were getting awfully close to another fight that was going on behind you and I didn't know if -"

"Alright, Spaz, alright, I get it!" Harry chuckled as he watched his friend's face grow increasingly flushed as he attempted to spit out his explanation without pausing for breath towards the end. "Then I suppose I should say thank you," Harry smiled, "though I doubt the guy is gonna –"

"You cannot hide from me!"

"- give up," Harry finished. "Oh look, he brought a friend."

A rather pissed off friend, to be exact. Holding a round shield in one hand and a hammer in the other, the new man was a muscular tank who was randomly bashing out with his weapon towards Harry's persistent enemy's head, clearly upset for some reason. Glancing down at the man's cut-up fur shirt, Harry had a pretty good guess as to why.

"There!" the Haki user yelled, dodging another attack from his fellow pirate's hammer. "No more running away you coward of a pirate! Draw your weapon so I can chop you up into bits!"

Spaz was up first, raising a leg to kick at the attacker when the man with the hammer intervened with a roar. He swung his weapon forcefully, and Spaz aborted his attack to avoid the incoming block of metal. "Sorry boya," the man smirked, "but if you intervene with Eric's fight he'll get all pissy and won't buy me a replacement shirt when this is all over, so you'll just have to play with me instead."

In the meantime, Harry was getting rather irritated at being insulted as a pirate when the insulter was the only pirate between them. He withdrew his wand and aimed. "I'm a wizard, damnit – Stupefy!" A beam of red light shot out from his wand tip and slammed into his opponent's raised fist. The armor glove was useless against the magic and the pirate was out like a light, to Harry's shock.

Huh. That was kind of anti-climactic. It seems that Haki offered a person no resistance against magic, which was good to know.

Harry turned to look at Spaz and couldn't help be chuckle. The poor Viking-pirate was cowering behind his shield and hammer as the hyperactive teen Shaved circles around him, darting in and out to deliver quick jabs.

"Don't play too long!" Harry teased, as he noticed most of the fighting around him winding down to a halt, the Grand Line pirates under Shanks making quick work of the weaker enemy.

Just as Spaz Moon-Stepped to deliver a dizzying blow to his opponent's head, a great splash could be heard.

"R-RED HAIR!" the V-pirate captain spluttered from where he fell overboard into the sea. "You haven't heard the last of us!" he yelled spitefully as the rest of his crew began to retreat.

Shanks just laughed and invited them to chase them to the Grand Line if they were interested.

"Eric!"

Spaz's opponent recovered from his vertigo and darted over to swing his friend onto his shoulder. He turned back to glare at Harry and Spaz. "What kind of dirty trick did you use on him, eh, you nancy pirate? Don't think this means you're better than us! You just got lucky, fighting in this stupid hot weather. We'd hammer you pirates into pirate pancakes on an iceberg!" And with that rather absurd excuse, he turned to run after his other comrades.

"Oi! We're not pirates!" Harry scowled, but no one was listening anymore. "Filthy pirates this, pirate pancakes that," he muttered irritably. "Idiot Vikings and idiot insults."

"Vikings?" Spaz asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"Never mind," Harry brushed off, realizing he had likely just used an irrelevant historical reference. "It looks like recovery time again," the wizard said, changing the subject. "Let's start cooking. We can tell Shanks about Luffy's situation over dinner."

A/N: I'm starting to come to the unfortunate realization that although fights in the manga can stretch for a dozen chapters, it's practically impossible to do the same in writing. But I suppose that just means more time for development of my nonexistent plot, haha.

Many thanks for my beta, PyromanianBlackWings, for sticking with me despite my many impromptu hiatuses.

713 reviews today, 7/25/12

Thanks everyone :)


	37. Chapter 37: Returning to Headquarters

A/N: I lost my flash drive of most up-to-date writing and will therefore be sulking until I find it. I will try my best to keep updating this and Pirate Conqueror, but Third Time's the charm will be on hold.

**Chapter 37**

**Return to Headquarters**

Shanks dropped his fork in shock. "Luffy? In trouble? Why didn't you say so earlier?" the pirate captain spluttered. "C'mon men! Let's hurry up and get this ship moving!"

The whole crew was rather fond of the young boy and they all pushed their seats away from the table to follow orders, leaving their food uneaten. Well, that wouldn't do, Harry thought to himself. He pulled his wand out and raised it into the air before using a spell many speech-making wizards were familiar with.

_BANG-BANG!_

Like firecrackers, an explosion of light emitted from the tip of Harry's wand, stopping all the pirates in their tracks.

"There's no need for the rush," the wizard scolded. "I can take care of the ship's repairs far quicker on my own. Finish your food. Dealing with half-eaten leftovers is annoying." And with that, Harry grabbed a loaf of bread to munch on before leaving to magic away the damage from the earlier fight.

"Hey Boy." Shanks turned to Spaz with an excited look. "Is he -?"

Spaz gained a look of dawning realization. "Yes sirree!" he exclaimed happily. "I bet he is!"

Together, the two quickly piled their plates with food and escaped out the door after Harry. The remaining pirates looked at each other with curiosity and confusion, unsure what was going on. Eventually though, Greg also piled his plate with food, having some idea of what the previous conversation was referring to, and left the dining room. The other pirates followed his lead until the table was cleared of food and everyone was on the deck.

The sight that greeted them was one that struck many of them dumb. From the waters around them, bits of wood and metal emerged to flock around potholes on the deck and gaps in the railing. Each part slotted itself against the raw edges of the ship like puzzle pieces before sealing together as if they never parted. Further observation revealed gunshot holes sealing together, the burnt black edges regaining its original color while tears in the ship's sails stitched themselves back together without a single seam, glass windows pieced back whole, and the distorted metal of dented door hinges straightening out before the doors themselves slid back into their proper positions.

"Whoo-hoo!" came an excited yell. "Do another trick, Kid!" Shanks was standing on the roof of the dining room with Spaz who was jumping up and down while twirling in circles, trying to watch the show in its entirety.

The addressed 'Kid' came floating down at the call before calmly pulling his robes into order. "Do finish your food Shanks," he sighed. "The sooner you're done, the sooner we can get moving. I don't know any weather magic, so you guys are on your own for the sailing."

"Ah!" Shanks screamed. "That's right! Luffy's in trouble!" The pirate captain stuffed the rest of his food in his mouth. "Huur-ee u' me'!" he called out to his crew around the meal stored in his cheeks.

As Shanks hurried off to ready the ship, Harry slipped through the dining room roof to find the more level-headed first mate. "Beckman, just in case, can you have someone go around the ship to check if everything's all right? If some of the pieces were blasted too far away, they might not have come back."

Beckman chuckled and lit up a fresh cigarette. "Considering we would have had every man on board working the rest of today to finish fixing the ship if it weren't for you, I think we can spare a man now to spot-check your results."

"Thanks," Harry smirked, amused by the man's reply. He summoned the abandoned plates scattered by rushed pirates and called Spaz in. They had dishes to wash and another meal to plan.

"We're approaching the docks!"

* * *

Harry leaned over the railing. The island could be seen now, but unlike previous returns, the shore was empty of people. Generally a villager or two would spot the incoming ship rather quickly and alert the rest of the town. Between Shanks' charm and the rest of the crew's casual party-loving nature, there was always a crowd gathered to welcome them back and join them at Partys' for a drink and stories, with Luffy leading the pack. This new quiet didn't bode well.

"Should we hurry?" Shanks asked as he approached the wizard from his place at the wheel.

"That might be best," Harry muttered as he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. "Actually, Spaz and I could probably take care of anchoring the ship and pulling the sails in. Why don't you take your crew to shore?"

Shanks beamed. "Thanks, Kid. Oi! Let's go find out what's happening, men!"

Harry turned to call for Spaz when suddenly, as his gaze passed over the pirate captain, blood filled his vision. The wizard choked on his own breath for a moment in shock before his sight cleared up again. What was that supposed to mean? Harry couldn't think of any possibility where the bandits stood a chance against Shanks, so why was there blood? And just how serious a problem was this a warning of? The man wasn't going to die, was he?

The crew lowered their rowboats and clambered down the ship's rope ladders. As Shanks swung himself over the railing to follow suit, Harry called out, "Wait!"

Shanks paused and turned to glance over his shoulder with a questioning glance.

Harry gave the man a nervous glance over. The vision of blood didn't return, and in the end, it was a very vague prediction. As a pirate, Harry was sure he'd been injured before plenty of times, and he wasn't dead yet. In fact, for all Harry knew, the blood _was_ from a previous injury or even an injury he dealt to an enemy.

That's right, there was no need to panic. Harry would just hurry to anchor the ship with Spaz and then join Shanks ashore to keep anything serious from happening. But as he raised a hand to wave off his worries and say goodbye, something tugged the limb forward and he plucked a few red hairs.

"Ow, hey!" Shanks protested, rubbing his head under his straw hat. "What was that for?"

Harry stared down at the hairs. "I'm – not sure," he said slowly, "but I guess I'd better keep these?" he wondered aloud. This whole being a seer thing was really confusing. "Anyway, be careful, okay? Spaz and I will try to finish up as soon as we can and join you ashore. Keep Luffy safe!"

"Dahaha! You don't need to tell me that," Shanks grinned, and with that, the pirates left.

Harry looked back at the hairs in his hand. Strange, what use could they possibly have? He conjured a glass vial for them and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Spaz! Let's hurry and take care of the ship, alright?"

"Yes sirree!" Spaz agreed, already hopping up the netting to start pulling in the sails. "I wanna help make sure Luffy's alright, too, yes sirree!"

Harry phased into his ghost form to fly up and join his friend. Between Spaz's limitless energy and Harry's magic, the sails were pulled in and the anchor thrown over the side at high speed.

"Alright." Harry grabbed Spaz's arm. "Let's go."

Concentrating, the wizard apparated the two of them ashore, not daring to try popping closer to Partys as he wasn't sure about the wisdom of revealing his magic to the civilians and bandits.

Not two seconds after landing on the beach, Harry and Spaz were surprised to see people in the distance wandering around in what seemed to be random directions.

"Ah!" someone exclaimed. "Kid! Boy!" Shanks quickly sprinted towards the duo with a slightly panicked expression. "The bandit leader ran off with Luffy – do you have any way to find them?"

Harry frowned. Tracking people was never his responsibility during the war, though that wasn't to say he didn't pick up some basics. _Homenum Revelio_ wouldn't be any use in this scenario. It would pick up everyone's presence equally, and if all the villagers and pirates were scattered around searching for Luffy, there's no way of pinpointing which pair of life signals would be the bandit and Luffy. He learned a few tracking runes along with the runes he used on Shanks' ship to build a temporary silencing ward, but without Luffy's blood or a magical signature, they were pretty useless too.

So what about his Seer skill?

With the prophecy's huge role in the war, a lot of people tried using divination to find a way to victory, much to Hermione's disapproval. While she couldn't deny the reality of such a power, she disliked how vague the practice was. It took a lot of experience to correctly read tarot cards and tea leaves, and debates over how to interpret the prophecy always led to more questions and less answers.

But _visions_. Visions were another story. While it was still dangerous to depend too much on visions as they rarely come with context, they were certainly more solid glimpses through time and space. Unfortunately, visions were a form of divination limited only to those gifted with the Inner Eye the late Professor Trelawney was so proud of possessing. Hers was too weak for visions, however, though it never mattered either way as she died so early on during the war.

Now Harry had an Inner Eye which, according to Rakma, is no longer 'clouded' by his involvement in a prophecy. He's had several involuntary visions already. Now how can he force one to occur right now and show him Luffy's current location?

The answer nearly smacked his face in.

"There you are! What in the world are you guys doing in such a small village like this? I hope you don't plan on sticking around for too long. I'd have to find someone else to tag along with."

Harry stumbled backwards from the person who stepped out of a door mere inches from his face.

It was a woman – a relatively elderly one as well, with gray hair and wrinkles but a lively spring in her step. Harry glanced quickly between this unfamiliar face, the fading door behind her, and finally landing on the very familiar large translucent pearl she was spinning in her hands.

"Cantora?" he asked, tentatively.

"Harry?" she asked back, teasingly.

"Harry!" Spaz suddenly yelled, closing his mouth from its gaping position when Harry identified their unexpected visitor. "The pearl! Can you find Luffy with it?"

Harry snapped his gaze to Cantora's eyes. "Cantora, can I borrow this again? And maybe discuss the price later – it's an emergency." He asked urgently.

Cantora blinked, but was soon smirking. "You shouldn't say such things, dearie," she replied, but placed the pearl into Harry's hands anyway.

Harry focused on his desire to find Luffy, not too worried about seeing the future instead of the present because if the boy had a future then there would be nothing to worry about in the first place. The orb's depths soon cleared away to show an image of the _ocean_. What was a mountain bandit doing on the ocean?

The scene faded quickly, but not before Harry managed a glimpse of the mayor's house in the background.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?" Spaz caught the falling wizard by the arm. "Harry!"

"I'm fine," Harry reassured, finding his footing again. He wasn't nearly as exhausted this time, having received a vision of the present this time. "He's out at sea, a short distance away from Mayor Woop Slap's home."

"Thanks, Kid!" Shanks called out, already running in that direction. Harry watched him with a bit of bemusement. The rowboats were docked in the other direction, so maybe the pirate captain was planning on _swimming_ after Luffy and the bandit?

"We'd better go after him, Spaz," Harry smirked. "At the very least, Luffy might appreciate a boat to row back to shore in, not knowing how to swim and all."

Spaz gave him a puzzled look. "Is the bandit not in a boat of his own? 'Cause that guy didn't look like someone who'd go swimming with a hostage, no sirree!"

"Oh, he had a boat, alright. But by the time Shanks is done with that idiot, his boat probably won't be in fit condition anymore either. Not to mention," Harry switched his gaze back to Cantora who was listening to the conversation with a bemused expression, being completely out of the loop, "maybe you could explain why you're here, Cantora?"

Cantora smiled. "Only if you don't mind telling me what's going on with you guys. Who is this Luffy fellow you always seem to be worrying about? I dare say you've yet to use the pearl for anyone else."

"Sure," Harry agreed easily, starting towards the docks to fetch a rowboat. "It's not a terribly complicated story, after all."

* * *

"Your Captain is a rather odd fellow," Cantora wondered aloud, tucking her feet under the simple wooden seat of the row boat.

Harry snorted between strokes of the paddle he was trying to match with Spaz. "Speak for yourself. How many women can claim dissolving the most infamous trading business of the five oceans for the purpose of spending the last years of their lives going on adventures with an almost as infamous pirate, joining his many tag-alongs such as a former marine, an impossible magician, and a, err, Spaz," he finished lamely. He was going to say a runaway from a secret underground government training program, but it probably wasn't wise to get into the habit of throwing Spaz's secret around like that.

Cantora gave an indulgent look as she graciously chose not to pursue the topic. "I suppose that's a good thing, all in all. I don't think I'd have as much fun if I chose to spend the rest of my time with a more conventional pirate."

"Not to mention, if you're willing, we could tell Shanks about the whole Merchant deal and he really wouldn't care beyond maybe being really excited about meeting a legend for the first day or so," the wizard hinted. He didn't really want Cantora to be keeping secrets from Shanks, but he didn't want to push when he and Spaz had so many of their own secrets they were unwilling to share.

"Well it's true that it'd be simpler to take care of the last few strands of business once in a while if I don't have to hide the issue from the captain of the ship I'm trying to get a ride on," the woman agreed. "But I'm not sure if it'd be any easier to live with someone who will insist on idolizing my legend."

"Eh, he won't _idolize_ you, I don't think. I mean, so far, other than you, Spaz, and Roxy, Shanks has seen the most of my magic's capabilities and he pretty much still treats me like a friend who knows some pretty cool card tricks. I don't think I could've stuck around for so long if he acted like Roxy does sometimes with the Oohing, and the Aahing, and the constant demands for bigger and better spells." Not that Harry minded Roxy all that much, really. It was better than his days as the Boy-Who-Lived or the Man-Who-Conquered, but he was glad nonetheless that Shanks wasn't like that.

A sudden swell of water that tilted the boat unexpectedly halted further conversation on the issue.

"What was that?" Spaz asked nervously, pulling his paddle back in and peering down into the water as if he could see the cause just over the edge of their vessel.

A low roar answered him.

Suddenly, Harry remembered the circumstances which allowed the Red-Hair Pirates to use this town as headquarters during trading season.

"Oh no. It's finally come out."

The sea monster roared again in agreement.

A/N: I'm still writing. Really. I'm actually more shocked that I'm still getting new alerts and favorites for this story after so long.

Many thanks to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings.

741 reviews, 10/14/12

Thanks everyone!


	38. Chapter 38: Leaving Luffy

A/N: Yeah, I'm back, kinda...

**Chapter 38**

**Leaving Luffy**

The events that transpired after the sea monster's awakening rattled Harry. He, Spaz and Cantora caught up to Shanks just as he drove the creature off with his Haki. The bandit was nowhere to be seen, his boat nothing more than debris floating in the water around the red-haired pirate. Luffy was wailing in Shanks' arms. No, not arms, _arm._

At the view of Shanks' shoulder ending in a ragged stump from which blood was freely flowing, Harry quickly started snapping orders. Spaz was sent to help bring Shanks and Luffy aboard their rowboat, and once Harry magically expanded the boat to twice its original size, Cantora was shuffled to one end. Luffy was put to sleep with a quick spell and given to Cantora to look over for injuries once Spaz returned and Shanks was laid out onto the bottom of the boat.

"Hold still," Harry ordered the pirate, as he stripped the soaking shirt off before spelling a bandage to serve as a temporary tourniquet around Shanks' upper arm. The pirate merely chuckled lightly, clearly growing woozy as the blood loss was finally hitting him.

"Shanks, stay with me," Harry snapped, using his left hand to grasp the pirate captain's chin firmly to look at him. "Where's your arm, Shanks? Stay awake and tell me where your arm is."

"Sea monster ate it," he slurred, before his head fell back with a wet thump.

Harry cursed. There wasn't anything he could do if the arm had been _eaten._ He cast a warming charm to counter the chill of blood loss and early summer seawater before taking a closer look at the raw stump. It was bleeding out slightly slower now thanks to the tourniquet, but now that Harry knew there was no hope of reattaching the arm, he cast a blood-clotting spell, and then stunned the pirate. A cutting charm sliced the jagged bone protrusion even, and an overpowered healing spell encouraged enough skin growth to seal the stump closed.

It was just a patch fix, though. Harry was no expert when it came to limb amputation, but perhaps the ship's doctor would know more, though come to think of it, Harry had no idea who that was.

"Let's get back to shore," Harry finally announced, casting a cleaning charm on the blood. Spaz merely nodded before grabbing a paddle to start rowing them back.

"How's Luffy?" Harry asked Cantora, who had stripped the boy of his soaking clothes and wrapped him in her sweater.

"He's fine, no injuries that I could see."

Harry nodded, recast the warming charm, and then grabbed the other paddle to help Spaz row. There were a lot of worried pirates and villagers on the island waiting for them.

* * *

"What do you mean there's no ship doctor?"

Beckman shrugged, looking a little helpless as he took a drag from his cigarette. Harry crossed his arms and sighed in frustration. "No chef, no doctor – what, do you not have a carpenter or navigator either?"

Beckman stamped out his cigarette nervously, only to light a fresh one immediately after. "You know already that we used to just cycle cook duty. The majority of the crew knows first aid – at least half of us can stitch a sword wound and dig out a bullet before patching the wound. Todd and I generally do the navigating when the captain doesn't want to just drift wherever, and we all can use a hammer and nails."

"It's a miracle you all haven't sunk yet. Or died of some disease or unbalanced nutrition or infection."

Beckman chuckled. "That's our captain. Luck of the devil."

Harry snorted. "Well the devil's come to collect. Our next destination better be to a proper doctor, maybe even Doctor Crocus, and then we're going to stay there until some of us learn more than just basic first aid. Then we're going to have our ship checked out, do maintenance if necessary, and maybe visit a bookstore. Any looting can wait until after when Shanks is back to full strength."

Beckman raised an eyebrow. "Aye, aye," he replied with a touch of sarcasm.

Harry flushed. He'd fallen back into the leader role he had known so well during the war when everyone's well-being was his responsibility. "Sorry, Beckman, you are the first mate."

"No, no," Beckman waved his hand. "The captain would be pleased if he heard. You're finally acting like you plan on sticking around and becoming one of us. Sure you don't want to be our ship's official chef?"

Harry blinked in surprise. It was true that he was worried about Shanks and the condition of the crew, and he had made a few friends of the pirates, but to be one of them? Did he really want to call Shanks his captain?

In the end, he didn't have to answer, as Beckman merely patted him on the shoulder and left the room to check on the crew's preparations to leave.

Harry followed him out, but turned the other direction to check on Shanks who was resting in the back room of Partys' bar. Spaz was sitting on the roof above the bar's back door and jumped down as he saw Harry approach.

"Luffy's in there with him right now," Spaz informed him. Harry nodded his thanks and opened the door. Luffy visiting was sure to cheer the pirate captain up, though the wizard was quite certain that Shanks would try to put up a strong front for the kid and possibly push himself too hard. Harry would have to keep a careful eye out and send Luffy away if necessary.

"Wow!" came an excited exclamation through the open door. "You go on the best adventures, Shanks!"

Harry smiled as he saw Shanks sitting on the bed with a bottle of sake in his remaining hand as Luffy sat on the edge of a bar stool nearby, eagerly listening to Shanks' storytelling.

"That's nothing," Shanks grinned. "The Grand Line is filled with adventures."

"The Grand Line sounds awesome! I can't wait to be a pirate and have my own adventures. I bet that's your favorite part about pirating, yeah Shanks?"

"Naw," Shanks shook his head, still grinning as he gulped from his sake bottle. "The best part is collecting crew. Now don't tell anyone, but I'm looking forward to finally getting – "

Harry's eyes narrowed as he realized what Shanks was about to say and quickly interrupted.

"a m-"

"Shanks!"

"-ician!"

"A musician?" Luffy asked, having not heard the entire word.

"Yes," Harry quickly confirmed. "But you will certainly first need a navigator, and probable a chef, a doctor, a carpenter, and some good fighters to watch your back."

"I'd like a swordsman," Luffy grinned, "and definitely a chef! But a musician would be awesome, 'cause a pirate's gotta party, and parties need music!"

"Why don't you start planning your crew with Beckman, Luffy?" Harry suggested. "As Shanks' first mate, he'll probably have more ideas than this idiot here," he added, shoving Shanks' head lightly.

"Shanks is not an idiot, you meanie!" Luffy protested, but he left regardless, excited to talk about his future pirate crew.

Shanks was pouting, but Harry ignored the expression as he plucked the bottle away and shifted Shanks' coat to get a better look at the stump. The skin at the end still looked pink and shiny, but healthy enough with no sign of infection or splitting. Harry followed that up with the only diagnostic spell he learned to check for internal bleeding and found nothing worth worrying about. Satisfied, Harry sat down on the stool Luffy vacated and was soon joined by Spaz who plopped himself onto the floor.

"I was trying to tell him I was just about to get a magician. I've plenty of musicians, you know, Kid."

Harry snorted. "I know, but knowing Luffy, he'd take that as him needing to find a magician of his own for his crew and screw up his priorities. Really Shanks? You've been captain of a crew for how long and you don't at least have a doctor? And don't tell me you're waiting for Doctor Crocus. You and I both know he's not going anywhere and you've had plenty of time to search for someone else."

Shanks grinned. "Seems to me a magician's enough to cover just about everything I might need. You cook our meals, fix our ship, healed me up quite well just now too."

Harry scowled. "Just because I can do a great deal, doesn't mean I can do it all. I can only cook so many different meals, and Greg knows more than I do about non-perishable ship fare. If part of the ship rots away, I wouldn't know where to start replacing it. As for healing, I can do injuries alright, but I don't understand diseases and I'm bad with infections. I spoke with Beckman just now. If you're willing, I recommend we leave as soon as possible to get that arm of yours looked at by a professional."

"Hmm," Shanks sighed, lifted his hand up to tilt his straw hat down over his eyes as he leaned back against the wall. "Our time's about up anyway, isn't it?"

Harry nodded, even though Shanks couldn't see, but the pirate wasn't really expecting an answer anyway, so he didn't bother vocalizing it.

"Luffy's not thinking about joining us anymore," Spaz observed after a moment's pause.

"Dahaha!" Shanks burst into laughter. "No, he isn't." He swept his hat off with a wide grin. "He'll be his own captain," he declared with satisfaction, "and I can't wait to see what kind of pirate he'll be."

* * *

"You okay?"

Harry glanced over at the straw hat ghost, before shrugging listlessly.

"Just some bad memories," the wizard replied. "No nightmares yet, though."

"You haven't fallen asleep at all tonight."

"Exactly."

* * *

The next day saw the ports of Windmill Village bustling with activity. The waters were calm, and though Harry wasn't sure how wise such a decision was, Shanks had the ship run to shore for easier loading of supplies. The villagers chatted along the sidelines, watching as the pirates carried crates and large sacks of food, alcohol, nails, canvas, and other goods under Beckman's direction. Shanks was standing a little out of the way, saying his final goodbyes to Luffy, who looked distinctly displeased at the news that the pirates would be leaving for good this time.

"Are you upset?" Shanks asked.

"Yea…" Luffy admitted, "but I won't force you to take me along anymore."

Shanks stuck his tongue out at that. "I wouldn't have taken you if you begged me."

Ignoring this comment entirely, Luffy proudly declared, "I'll become a pirate by myself."

"You don't have what it takes to become a pirate!" Shanks teased with a wide grin.

"Yes I do!" Luffy shouted. "One day, I'll find myself a crew that is as strong as yours. And then I'll find the world's greatest treasure! I'll become the king of pirates!"

Shanks' crew all paused as they listened with pride to Luffy's determination.

"Oh, so you want to be bigger and better than us, huh?" Shanks concluded with a happy chuff. "Well then, this hat," he continued, looking at the young boy who was currently biting back tears. With his remaining hand, the pirate captain grabbed his straw hat by the bowl and placed it firmly on the boy's head, hiding teary eyes, "is my gift to you. This is my favorite hat, you know. When you become a great pirate in future," Shanks challenged, "return that hat to me."

Shanks didn't look back, but Harry did. As the anchor rose and the sails lowered, Harry scanned the air around Luffy, spotting the straw hat ghost before they traveled too far.

The ghost raised a hand with a large grin. "Take care of yourself!" he called out to Harry, who could only smile and wave back.

A/N: Short, and mostly canon, sorry.

Major thanks to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings, for sticking with me despite my off and on habits.

759 reviews, 2/17/13

(esama is gone, *cry*

But I highly recommend cywscross's work, if you haven't read them yet)


	39. Chapter 39: Reboot

A/N: I'm not dead, and I am still writing :)

**Chapter 39**

**Reboot**

"We'll be disbanding for a few years," was the unexpected announcement when the crew gathered around Dr. Crocus' house after Shanks' examination.

"WHHAAAT?" came the chorus of disbelief.

"Dahahaha!" Shanks roared in laughter at the looks of shock and horror on his crew's faces. "Not right away," he explained further, "but the plan is to scatter before meeting back together at, uh, how about Sabaody's? And two years sounds good, I think."

"Captain, why - !"

"Captain, what's this supposed to mean - !"

"It's not a plan if you don't even know where we're to meet up, Captain - !"

The ocean of protests and demands for explanations swelled amongst the pirates as their captain watched with his trademark grin before finally Dr. Crocus came out with a stern look and hollered,

"QUIET!"

It was certainly effective, as finally jaws snapped closed in the face of a very angry looking flower.

"Thanks, Doctor," Shanks said cheerily before turning back to his men. "Now look," he started, his smile dropping into a more serious expression. "I'm not giving up on being a pirate – it's our life, and I don't plan on changing that, but I can't ignore the fact that losing an arm is going to have to change something. I'm weaker now, there's no denying that, and the lot of you are just so damn strong that I won't get the chance to overcome this handicap even if we go back to the Grand Line. I'm not saying I can't depend on you," he added firmly, when it seemed some of his crew was upset at the implication that the ship couldn't survive just as well with them fighting for their captain. "I chose each one of you because you are strong and because I need a crew to depend on, but on the same note, I refuse to be a captain my crew cannot depend on in turn. In two weeks, our ship will dock at Barbses Isle where we will split up for two years to meet again at Sabaody, the tenth grove. Start thinking about what you guys want to do, whether you want to split up into groups or if a few of you want to try going solo. That is all." And with that, Shanks reached up to tip his hat, only to ruffle his hair with a chuckle when he realized it wasn't there, before turning around to go back into Doctor Crocus' home.

Murmurs started when Shanks was out of sight, pirates practically shuffling awkwardly around with confusion and shock at this strange turn of events.

After a few minutes, Harry decided to ignore it all. He was pretty sure some people would be allowed to stick around Shanks for the next two years, like Beckman for one. Cantora wanted an adventure, which would mean sticking around the infamous pirate captain. Roxy… well, Roxy was interested in him, or rather, his magical abilities, so he'd be stalking Harry, who would be traveling with Spaz regardless of other arrangements.

Which actually made a good argument for Harry to stick around Shanks, too. Surely the man wouldn't condemn him to dealing with the ex-marine stalker on his own? Sure he could just apparate away, taking Spaz with him, to some other island, but really, that'd just be bloody troublesome. Not to mention, since he wasn't technically a member of Shanks' crew, the pirate captain couldn't pull rank to order him away. And with that, Harry nodded decisively to himself before turning to start preparing dinner. Dr. Crocus had caught yet another ridiculously large fish for them.

* * *

"So where are we going, then, Shanks?"

"We?" the pirate captain echoed. "And what makes you think we'll be traveling together?"

Harry responded with an unamused look. "And I suppose your plan was to sail the Grand Line, looking for trouble with a skeleton crew of yourself and Beckman, huh?"

Shanks grinned. "Yup, pretty much!"

Beckman entered the room at that moment with Dr. Crocus and fresh bandages.

"Idiot boy," Dr. Crocus grumbled. "Worse than Roger, you are! He had a bit more sense in that thick head of his. How the hell are you supposed to run a ship with only three arms between the two of you, huh?"

Beckman just chuckled around an unlit cigarette, handing the bandages over when the old ones were disposed of.

"Neh, so, so?" Spaz swung down from the rafters. "Where are we going then?"

Harry turned to look at his oldest friend of this world. "Aren't you supposed to be with Cantora?"

Spaz shrugged as he jumped up and down in place. "Laboon's watching over her. I think she's trying to convince him to give her a tooth or something, 'cause she wants to try carving something other than wood, and she doesn't like carving marble or rock or stuff but since she's disbanding her business, she doesn't want to trigger a new ivory trade by requesting any from her usual contacts, except now I think she's actually trying to make a trade with Laboon which is really funny because I don't think Laboon actually wants anything 'cause he's a whale, ya know?"

The pirates in the room grew quiet.

Shanks coughed. "She is Old Man Merchant, after all. If she can transport her ship as easily as the rumors say, a whale shouldn't be a problem…"

Dr. Crocus firmly shook his head. "That's not a good idea. Right now, Laboon only attempts to knock down Reverse Mountain by ramming into it, which is something I can limit when it gets out of hand. If he were to actually return to West Blue, I don't know what he'd do from there. He won't find the Rumbar Pirates – attempting to cross through the Calm Belt at their level was nothing but suicide. I know they're dead, and really, Laboon knows it too. But if he were suddenly in West Blue again and unable to find any sign of them, well, he might actually try and search the Calm Belt himself, which is no place for a lone blue whale, regardless of his size. I can't protect him from that."

Shanks sighed, and brought up his remaining hand to ruffle through his hair. There was a moment of tense silence as no one knew what to say, Harry and Spaz still a bit confused about the whole story behind the large whale but not quite willing to ask.

"So? Where are we going?" Harry prompted, when Dr. Crocus finished re-bandaging Shank's shoulder. When they had first arrived, the doctor had given Harry a long look under raised eyebrows at the injury, but eventually announced that he would perform surgery to amputate the stump off. There wasn't enough of an arm left to be of any use, not even for holding a prosthetic fitting, which Shanks didn't want anyway. As such, it would be safer for both the pirate captain's future health and future battles to have everything from the shoulder socket down removed cleanly and the wound stitched professionally.

"Eh, I was thinking of dropping by Kuraigana Island," the pirate finally replied.

Beckman snorted. "He's gonna kill you, Captain."

"Dahahaha! Probably, probably!" Shanks grinned, looking not the slightest bit worried about his impending doom.

"Visiting a friend?" Harry inquired, hoping to get a bit more information as well as encourage Shanks to keep talking. The man was good at being decisive – an important skill for a leader, but until he's actually prompted to make a decision, the pirate captain seemed to prefer going into just about anything without an actual plan. It really made Harry wonder how the red-head had managed to survive for so long.

Well, no, Harry knew it was likely because he was very good at picking the right friends. That was, after all, how Harry had managed to live so long. Shanks, however, seemed a bit more capable when it came to returning the favor.

"Yeah," Shanks replied, breaking Harry from his morbid thoughts. "We spar all the time – we're practically infamous for it, really. People have already started calling him the Greatest Swordsman in the World, and a lot of the time I believe it!"

Harry nodded, vaguely remembering such a title being mentioned before. Funny how this world actually labeled such people. He was pretty sure back home people didn't bother, believing in the "there's always someone stronger" philosophy. But, well, Merlin's pretty well known as the strongest wizard in history, so maybe he just hadn't spent long enough in the muggle world to have heard of an equivalent?

"So, you think he'll help you out with learning to fight with only one arm?"

Shanks and Beckman exchanged glances.

"Well… maybe?"

* * *

The port was bustling when the Red-Hair Pirates arrived at Barbses Island. Over the course of the past week, most of the crew seemed to have accepted their Captain's decision and were actually looking forward to doing some of their own exploring around to improve their own skills.

"I'll be entering a few sniping competitions where I can, maybe some firearms duels," Yassop bragged. "'Course, if we're let loose for two whole years, I might just visit home!"

His fellow pirates jeered at him teasingly, though a few volunteered to join him to make a group large enough to maneuver a small ship on their own when necessary. Being pirates, it was a little harder trying to hitch a ride anywhere on someone else's boat.

Farkas Gregory had stopped by the kitchen a few times during the week for last minute training spars and ship fare preservation tips. He would be traveling in a group with his friend Alvin with the hopes of picking up a few more specialized skills, like cooking, carpentry, medicine, etc, because "it's stupid that the best chef, doctor, and repair man on our ship doesn't even call himself a Red-Hair Pirate." Harry chose to be pleased with the indirect compliments and that Greg apparently accepted him as part of the group, rather than be irritated at the indirect demand that he should join the crew as one of Shanks' pirates already.

A surprising number of pirates ended up disembarking onto Barbses with no plans at all. Harry just hoped they could all make it to the meeting place alright. Traveling almost halfway around the world by oneself with no mode of transportation to call your own seemed a needlessly daunting situation when you had crewmates in the same position. Harry supposed, though, that this was the kind of reckless mentality attracted to the life of a pirate.

"And you're sure it will restore itself exactly as it was?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "As long as you don't shake it too vigorously, Roxy, yes," he replied, for the umpteenth time. Since Harry was staying with Shanks and Roxy was going to follow, and the pirate captain refused to even consider leaving his ship on Barbses Isle for a smaller one which would be easier to sail with fewer people, the former Marine and his companions Korr and Mona were invited to join Shanks, Beckman, Harry, and Spaz aboard the pirate ship. Roxy asked only that they figure out a way to bring his boat along. Thus, Harry obliged yesterday morning with a four-part rune scheme to keep the furniture in place followed by a shrinking charm so that the small ship was the size of a small Den-Den Mushi, and likewise could be kept in Roxy's pocket. The man hadn't stopped exclaiming over it since.

"But it is indeed fascinating."

"Isn't it?"

Harry groaned and hurriedly walked away from Cantora and Roxy's excited discussions about his magic. Fortunately, he could see Spaz and Beckman returning to their docking area.

"Shanks!" he called out to the pirate captain on the other side of the deck. "Beckman's back. I'm going to go with Spaz to see if we can stock up on fresh food supplies now. Don't go picking any fights, alright?"

Upon seeing Shanks grin and wave in reply, Harry apparated off the ship to the dock behind some crates.

"Seems you've had some luck," Harry greeted, as he walked out to see that Beckman and Spaz had returned without their burdens from when they had first departed. Since the ship would only be holding less than a dozen people for the next two years, most of their livestock were pretty unnecessary. The crew had eaten all the pigs and roosters last night for barbeque, but the dairy cows would be worth more in beli than meat.

"We did," Beckman replied around a freshly lit cigarette. "A large ship of newcomers was at the market place looking for a steadier food supply, so we managed to sell off all the cows at a good price rather quickly. We'll have to buy some good alcohol."

"It was so cool, Harry, yes sirree! There were people there selling cows, and pigs, and chickens, and goats, and sheep, and, and, I saw this really big bird that had the longest neck and legs but stubby wings which was so weird, yes sirree, it was, and it couldn't fly but it could run a lot faster than any other bird I've ever seen and look -!" Spaz thrust out a hand holding a green and white fluffy feather about the size of his forearm. "Its feathers are huge, Harry! Yes sirree!"

"That is impressive," Harry admired. Even coming from a world where quills of all colors and sizes were common writing utensils, he had never seen one quite like this. The wizard turned back to Beckman for a second. "I left your Captain up on the ship with Roxy and Cantora. It's only been a minute or so, but you might want to hurry back and join them. I'm going shopping with Spaz now, if that's alright?"

"Sure," Beckman smiled good-naturedly at the teasing about his Captain's propensity for finding trouble, his rifle still lazily propped on one shoulder. Still, he walked awfully fast towards his ship after waving goodbye.

Harry shared a grin with Spaz, who had also noticed the first mate's behavior. "Come on, then. The last and only time I've had access to so many spices and other goods since we decided to tag along with Shanks was when they pillaged that trader's ship. I've brought some of my own cash along, so let's have some fun."

A/N: So, new stuff's happening. Unfortunately, I've no idea what just yet . But, well, I keep getting new followers and stuff, so thank you all! I'm going to do my best to keep updating. You may see some stuff for my other stories go up first, since I've still some things planned for those, haha.

834 reviews, 10/10/13

Thanks :)


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